Levitation of Luck
by emeraldhead-crimsonheart
Summary: Sixth year and Rose Weasley is the only single girl in her dorm. An accidental confession leads to an unexpected potions partnership with Scorpius and they quite literally have to brew their own luck. Naturally, the darkest dungeon is the best place for them to make their own luck.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, this is the first fanfiction I've written in about 8 years. I'm definitely rusty so I'm going to keep this to just a few chapters. Don't want to over-do it. I have about a bazillion ideas for Scorpius/Rose fics as that's all I've been reading for a while. And I just cannot get enough. So I've run out of stories to read and wanted to try writing again.  
The older I've got the more I've enjoyed the slow build stories and less so the one-shots. So I guess that's why the idea of writing a one shot seemed harder than a short multi-chapter fic. Anyway, I digress, there will be more to follow. Sooner rather than later I hope.**

 **Disclaimer: J K Rowling made this world and I'm eternally grateful. I'm just toying with the heart strings of her characters.**

 **Chapter 1**

All I've heard for the past ten minutes is squeaking and giggling coming from the bed next to mine. I've was trying to get my head around chapter seven of Advancement in Modern Human Transfiguration for the past hour, to little avail. My crimson curtains drawn around my bed aren't exactly muffling whatever fooling around is going on. About ten minutes ago I heard someone ease the door open to our dormitory with my first thought being: "how on earth has a _boy_ got into our dorm at the top of the tower?". My imagination jumps first to him asking bulky Claire Underwood to lift him so he doesn't touch the stairs and then to a more realistic yet humorous method of a friend of his levitating him up the spiral staircase bumping him into walls until he finally finds the door handle.

I find myself give an involuntary chortle through my frown at this thought as the giggling continues. What kind of idiot would levitate their friend up a magical staircase? And why is it necessary to fool around at 2 in the morning. I'm a prefect I should really just tell them to stop, but the idea of me finding Patricia in another compromising position with Malfoy is not something I wish to witness for a third time. The thought occurs to me that maybe it isn't Malfoy in her bed tonight, as there is no way his pride would allow him to ask a friend to actually _levitate_ him up the Gryffindor girls dormitory stairs.

I finally give in after hearing the bed springs particularly loudly, opening my curtains and to my disgust seeing a pair of black trousers peeking out from behind Patricia's curtain and whisper a silencing charm. I'm utterly baffled as to why they couldn't have cast one themselves. Patricia at least is a sixth year who should use such a simple charm without much thought. Perhaps it's because I'm the only other patron of our dormitory who actually sleeps in their own bed at weekends anymore and she assumed I'd already be sleeping. Either way, I won't be helping her with the potions assignment when she's bound to come and ask me for help on Monday.

Though I can't hear them anymore, I turn over onto my side so I'm not facing them in any way shape or form through the darkness. I briefly think of Malfoy and whether it is him only a few feet away. As far as I'm aware he's never been into our dormitory and only a few times has he visited Patricia in the common room. It seems so unlikely that he'd use some elaborate spell so he could visit her when the previous year it was well known that Malfoy invited a few girls down to his dungeon dorm; at different times might I add. He may have had a fair few conquests over the last 18 months but he's not some sort of Casanova. It seems a little beneath him coming to visit her in here if I'm honest.  
I wish him the smallest of sympathies at the thought of him possible asleep and none the wiser in his dormitory below as sleep washes over me.

XXX

I'm currently sat in the library with some potions books scattered around on a table in the north facing corner. It's by far the coldest area of the library so I'm less likely to be disturbed.

I've already broken two quills this afternoon, frightening some second years as I cursed a little too loudly when I snapped the second one. If Madame Pince wasn't now officially a "deaf old bat" I'd probably have been thrown out. It being a late night last night I can already feel my concentration ebbing and my temper becoming short – I'm down to one quill and have a lot more research to go. My nearest new quill is in my trunk which I'm extremely uninclined to get as I've made a nice nest for myself with these potion books. I'm feeling falsely studious, even though I know I'm not processing as well as I could be. Sadly, I can hear brisk footsteps coming down the aisle on my left and I have a horrible feeling I'm about to be interrupted as I strike through yet another terrible idea of an advanced potion brew from my list.

"Weasley." He states it politely with a nod in greeting that I'm just about familiar with these days.

"Yes?" My tone rather clipped. He was probably the one canoodling in my dorm last night and I feel slightly bitter that I'm the only one single of my dorm mates. There is no reason to parade the fooling around late at night to a one man audience. Did I mention I'm tired?

He raises his eyebrows at my short tone but continues "Any chance you can swap my patrol night Thursday?" I merely blink in acknowledgement waiting for him to elaborate. He clearly thought this would be a 5 second conversation, he huffs, "Oscar's wanting us to train an extra night in the next two weeks for the Ravenclaw match." He's frowning now.

"You've got some nerve asking me for a favour." I say returning to my notes, I'm irritated by his presence.

"What are you barking on about?" He pulls the chair out across from me and sits down leaning in.

"I'm only asking you as I can't-"

"Ask Fiona or Gwen for obvious reasons." I finish a little smugly. Two of those conquests I mentioned.

"Don't be petty Weasley. It doesn't suit you."

"I mean it. Why should I swap with you when you were the one keeping me up last night?" I realise the mistake in my phrasing a little too late. The smirk appears at lightning speed.

"Thoughts of me keeping you awake Weasley? I'm quite happy with the Gryffindor girl I've got thanks."

"Yes." I say through gritted teeth now, again glancing at my parchment instead of his taunting eyes. "I mean the least you could do would be to use a silencing charm."

"Seriously Weasley, what are you on about?"

"Last night in our dorm. Next time use a god damn silencing charm and then the next time you want to switch patrol hours I might say yes." That for me is the end of the matter and I try to focus on the dwindling list of potions on the sheet. After a moment I realise he's still sat there, clearly not about to move.

"Anything else?" I sigh.

"I wasn't in your dorm last night." His tone is unreadable. I'm surprised that my guess was right. He really is too proud to levitate himself, or ask someone else to levitate him up our staircase.

"Oh." The realisation of what this actually means hits me a little too full on. I've basically just confessed that his girlfriend is cheating on him. It _was_ an accidental admission.

He gets up and leaves without another word. I can't really concentrate after that very well. My thoughts and slightly increased sympathies going out to Malfoy right now. These sympathies will only be short lived as most of the girls in our year know the difference between Malfoy in a proper relationship and out of one.

When Malfoy has a girlfriend he's actually tolerable. He's generally hard working and a good partner in classes; being in a relationship seems to ground him. He's top in a few subjects, and he's helped me out with Runes a couple of times since he's been with Patricia. Not that I'm jealous or anything, but it actually helped me out a lot. It's just when he's single he becomes quite insufferable. The arrogance just oozes from him then. Stalking around the castle appearing like he's just waiting for another eligible woman to fall at his feet.

It's at this point I realise I'm staring into space and realise that there are more pressing things than the escapades and conquests of Malfoy. Choosing a potion for my first year NEWT project.

A short while later, I'm adding Veritaserum to my list with a small question mark beside it when I hear the same shuffling sound down the row of books. He looks a little put out and I really don't think before saying-

"That was quick." He scowls at me before pulling the seat out, one away from me this time and lowering himself onto it his face changing to look a little dejected. "Sorry."

"I don't need _your_ apology Weasley." He says with vehement. I have no words of response. I've already been about as insensitive as it's possible to be.

"I've just dumped my girlfriend after confirming what you just informed me." I'm not sure if I'm only just noticing how formally Malfoy speaks or whether it's aiding him process the situation.

"Luckily for me I just found some Ravenclaw up to the hilt inside her." I inhale sharply and I see him almost crack a grin at how completely obtuse I am. "Naturally this means I cannot possibly work with her in this potions project."

"And given that you are the bright young witch who gifted me with this information I'm taking it upon myself to appoint you my new potions partner." He's getting books out of his bag and I'm thinking of something empathetic in response. This does not happen.

"First the hours then potions partners?"

"You just broke up my relationship."

"Not intentionally!"

"How tactless can you be? Everyone knows you're the only Gryffindor sixth year in the dorm room at the weekends. You definitely could have not said anything." The formal nature of this speech has broken quicker than I expected.

"You're really going about winning me over as your new potions partner quite well." The phrase is delivered dripping with sarcasm as I cross my arms over my chest leaning away from him. My tiredness returning as quickly as my sympathy fades.

"I'll drop the patrol hours. I'll ask Fiona. I'd probably not want to be potions partners with Davies if I were you anyway. He was the one up to the hi-"

"Alright I get it." I sigh again. This is probably the most personal thing I've ever spoken to Malfoy about. It's a little unsettling as to how easy this conversation seems to be going. And it's been basically completely involuntary on my part. "Let them do whatever they're doing in the hope they bring each other's grades down."

"Ha! That's not what I was going for Weasley but it'll do. For now." I concede. He's just found his girlfriend, whom he clearly liked quite a bit fooling around with someone else. And being told about it by someone you barely know can't really help. He's hiding any embarrassment he might feel rather well. I stick out my hand while nodding curtly.

"Potions partners." I state as he grasps my hand shaking it quickly before releasing. "Potion partners." He confirms.

We work quietly for a few hours until we can hear smatterings of chatter as students head downstairs for dinner. We've decided on Felix Felicis to brew. It took some debating back and forth on the amount of time we'll need, the expense of ingredients and then the benefit if we can use it once it's brewed. I can't deny that having some liquid luck seems awfully appealing. I'm also thinking Malfoy already has plans to use it in some wild revenge scheme. Somehow he's managed to not burst out in any angry rants about what's just happened to him, but I guess he's saving that for the Slytherin friends who'll no doubt be able to foster much more cunning ways of revenge. I can't deny my respect for Malfoy's studying traits. Deciding to work to distract himself from the situation. I actually feel myself grinning in response to this epiphany.

We pack up and leave the library, reaching the end of the corridor when I realise I promised I'd meet Albus in the common room before dinner.

"I actually said I'd meet Albus in our common room." He shrugs and goes to walk down the hallway.

"Sorry again Malfoy." I blurt out. He turns round and takes a step or two back towards me. He's looking at me like he's conflicted about being nice, or thankful or even gushing some hatred slur about her to me. It's rather hard to read his face at the moment. He reaches out and unexpectedly squeezes my shoulder.

"Don't be."

"I knew you'd not levitate yourself up those stairs," I mutter as he turns to go again.

"What?"

"Oh nothing. Tuesday night we'll finish planning the brew for potions class on Wednesday morning?"

"Yeah. I'll be here. Same table at 7."

"Cool." He turns and strides down the corridor ruffling the back of his dirty blonde hair as he goes. I watch him effortlessly pull open a thick tapestry and in the blink of eye his black cloak whips behind it and vanishes.

It's then, left alone I realise that Patricia is going to probably know that it's me who let it slip what with me being the only one in the dormitory at night these days. Unless Malfoy was completely subtle about how he found them, or what was said during said break-up. It doesn't seem like it would have been that difficult to end it if she was indeed found in such a compromising situation. Either way I'm not looking forward to returning to my dormitory tonight just in case. At least Malfoy has the dungeons in which to hide and plot his revenge. I might end up sleeping in the prefects bathroom tonight to escape any further drama. I really need a good nights sleep.

* * *

 **Reviews and feedback are always welcome by those who wish to provide it.**


	2. Chapter 2

"You're potion partners with Malfoy?" My cousin James asked the next morning incredulously. He's currently turning all the pumpkin juice on the table in front of us into water to which I'm rather disappointed. I was looking forward to that juice. This irritates me, as many things do, so naturally my response is rather forced.

"Yes James. Funnily enough I've worked with him before and he's perfectly capable. One might go as far as to say he's a wizard with some sort of intelligence."

"Yeah…an intelligent ferret." Mumbles James as he spills a cup of what is now thankfully only water over his sister Lily who starts yelling expletives at him before also yelling a drying charm at her hair and robes. She flushes and sends a death glare James' way before continuing her chat with Cary Finnegan across the bench.

"James, just because they beat us last month doesn't mean you have to hate the guy. Besides I was kind of the one to give him some bad news."

"Pft," James waves his hand as his brother sits down beside him, both of them ruffling their hair simultaneously; it's like I'm looking at different stages of Harry Potter's youth. "He'd have found out eventually, no need for guilt wee cus."

"What're we talking about?" asked Albus, pulling the bacon towards him and piling it on his plate.

"How Rosie dearest here is having to partner with Malfoy," James exclaimed again, now changing the water back to pumpkin juice. I grab a glass before he can transform it back again. I see Albus roll his eyes over my glass as I take a swig.

"James, he ain't that bad you know. He's even a Wasps fan. I mean, that's about the only conversation I've had with the guy before, but he seems decent enough."

"Fine, when he comes wearing his Death Eater get-up to our next victory party don't say I didn't warn you." This is when he got up and raced out of the hall, for what I'm not quite sure. I did happen to see a party of Ravenclaw girls leave a few moments before; it could have been related to that I suppose.

"Why does James have to make such a big deal about it? Your dad doesn't even mention that sort of thing anymore. I mean he's genuinely not a bad guy. There are worse people I could work with and-"

"Rose. It's not your fault" stated Albus matter-of-factly piling another heap of bacon onto his already almost overflowing plate. "Patricia was looking for a reason to get into bed with Will Davies. For some reason she thinks he's going to be Minister one day. Talk about marrying for status. Or shagging around for status."

"Yes, but I didn't need to let it slip to Malfoy."

"It might not have come out on its own you know, you probably did the guy a favour. And ignore James. Malfoy works hard; he'll make a good potions partner."

"Albus Potter, when did you become so wise?" I tease, draining my glass of juice and glancing over at the Slytherin table. Albus hums while tapping his chin as if deep in thought and I can't help but grin. Albus has always been clever with people. Maybe it's a middle child thing, but I think it's because somehow out of all us Weasleys and Potters he actually tries to listen to everyone. And through that he's gained a lot of experience often just watching things unfold; learning from others mistakes.

"I definitely didn't inherit my wisdom. My dad was mental at my age and threw himself into about a thousand deadly situations and my mum is….well she's my mum." We laugh heartily together as the owls swoop down with the Monday morning post and I cast a glance again, still grinning to the Slytherin table. Malfoy has finally appeared and to be frank, he looks terrible. I literally saw him twelve hours ago and he's now got bags under his eyes, and his hair is almost as dishevelled as Albus'. I'm guessing he didn't get much sleep. I honestly do feel bad for the guy. I mean having someone tell you that your girlfriend is cheating and then find her in a rather compromising situation that doesn't exactly prove otherwise has got to be rough. That sort of betrayal. I guess it's kind of selfish I'm hoping he'll bounce back, they weren't together for that long afterall and I really don't want this project to suffer.

It's at this moment I realise I'm still grinning as he lifts his head and sees me looking. I don't drop my gaze but my grin turns into a terrible attempt at a pitying smile. His eyebrows rise beneath his hair, disappearing from view. It's then that this gets odd. He doesn't do anything. He just stares at me with his eyebrows beneath his hair, looking completely exhausted and kind of ridiculous. I can feel the heat on the back of my neck, and I just know the blush has about six seconds before it reaches my cheeks. It's as this precise moment that he stands up, glancing around his table and mutters something to his dark haired friend he was sat beside who I'm almost certain is Jacob Zabini. He then picks up some toast and a mug of something steaming and appears like he's leaving the hall. My eyes follow him and it's at this point that Albus finally leans back patting his belly with satisfaction, realising that I haven't actually been listening to a word he's been saying for the past few minutes.

"Rose?" he waves a hand in front of my face. "Earth to Rose?"

"Sorry, I think Malfoy is coming over here right now. And I have absolutely no idea why. We agreed to meet tomorrow for potions- and Hi!" Malfoy indeed had made his way around via the staff table to where me and Albus were sat. The few Gryffindors left at our table cast Malfoy some dubious glances before getting up and heading off towards their lessons. He nods in my direction while chewing the last of his toast then addresses Al, "Potter."

"Hi." There is currently this awkward air that is filled when two individuals who are clearly unfamiliar with the other person's version of small talk, and are forced to quite literally cut to the chase.

"Any chance you could swap my Thursday night patrol?" He doesn't look back at me again but gives Albus a rather unusual look. It's somewhere between pleading and pained. Or perhaps Malfoy has just created an expression that means he can convey both at once. He takes a sip of coffee and waits for Albus' answer. The only reason I know it's coffee is because I can smell it from the other side of the table. It smells industrial strength. Albus' responds, sounding a little dubious.

"Erm, sure. I guess. You know I patrol with Rose right? You'll be seeing a lot of her already what with this new potions project, so not sure if that's ideal for you."

"Hey! Are you suggesting my company isn't amazing?" I exclaim, completely indignant to the insinuation that it might be dull to spend excessive time with me.

"Yes, I'm aware Potter. I don't see it being a problem. It might actually give us some added time to discuss how we'll handle the project aforementioned." He says all this without so much as glancing at me. I'm starting to get frustrated by this. It's _me_ he's going to have as a patrol partner.

"I guess that's ok then. So long as, well…you don't mind right Rose?"

"Well, not really I guess but-"

"That's alright then, I might actually get a chance to finish that letter to mum I started last week. Thanks Rose. We should go to Defence you know."

"Cheers Potter. I'll see you later Weasley." He finally looks at me before departing and I feel a jolt in my navel somewhere. Our eyes meet and I see the bags this time, dark ringed circles around his eyes. It looks like he's been up for hours. They also look a little puffy from lack of sleep. But there is somehow an unmistakable mischievous twinkle there somewhere. Faint though it may be, the corner of his mouth twitches but instead of grinning he turns to leave. I would have felt a lot better about patrolling with him if I wasn't sure he had something planned to get back at me for breaking him and Patricia up, or whether he wanted to berate me for something else, but I didn't have time to dwell on it as Albus dragged me up the marble staircase to class.

XXXX

I'm currently waiting for Malfoy in the small prefect's office on the third floor. It's a tiny little room with very little space to actually get behind the desk to sit at it. There is a tall cabinet, filled with old boxes of parchment; a lot of these are previous prefect schedules that must go back a hundred years. There is a tiny glassless window and a solitary torch on the wall by the door, flickering with the wind whistling through the hole in the wall. All in all it's not the most pleasant place to have to wait for someone to turn up, least of all when I myself am always too punctual for my own good.

I'm about the get up from the seat at the desk when the door swings open and Malfoy trudges in. He nods but doesn't say a word taking the parchment I push across the table for him to sign. He doesn't look at me but flicks his head towards the door, which I'm assuming means "let's go Rose. Don't want to take all night about it do we?"

We walk in silence for the entire third floor of the castle and instinctively head down the stairs to the second. It's getting a little unbearable, and Malfoy is currently a few paces ahead and seems to want this done and dusted as quickly as possible. With this pressing silence I'm actually quite inclined to agree, but as usual I can't just keep my mouth shut.

"Well you're a bundle of laughs this evening aren't you?" Again already realising my mistake I inwardly cringe at my tactless comment. The guy who's recently become single is on the list of people that are very much allowed to avoid being "A bundle of laughs". He doesn't even glance at me when he responds.

"How astute of you Weasley." His voice is cold, but it sounds forced. I don't really have anything to reply with accept a mumbled apology.

"Weasley don't apologise. My silence and pain are very much self-inflicted today." He finally looks at me and I see those bags under his eyes are just as prominent as this morning. I raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"When I told the guys in the common room last night about my new found singledom, Zabini thought it was a good idea for me to drown my sorrows and celebrate said singledom with almost a full bottle of firewhiskey to myself. Safe to say I've felt like death warmed up a little all day. And I was using the silence to plot my revenge on him." I can see him trying not to grin at his own joke. I'm also rather surprised he confessed this. To me of all people.

"Oh." I personally think this response is about the wittiest thing I've ever said.

"I don't expect you to understand the pain Weasley, just accept it and the patrol will be over quick. Quick and painless." I'm rather taken aback by this comment. Just because I work hard and spend an above average time in the library, does not mean I've never had at least a small share of Fire Whiskey.

"Actually, you're wrong. I do understand the pain of a self-inflicted Fire Whiskey hangover."

"Oh really, Weasley?" He stops to lean on a wall at this point looking at me sceptically.

I stop too, leaning on the wall opposite wondering how much to tell Scorpius Malfoy to shut him up from insinuating that I'm some sort of prude. I try to avoid this sort of conversation with people. Mostly because I don't like the masses of Hogwarts to know all the nitty gritty details of my private life. It's bad enough having a family that think it's their right to know everything!

"I have a big family. You don't think we'd have got our hands on some at a family party or two the past few years? There are a lot of us-"

"I noticed." I glare at him for his interruption but continue.

"As I was saying, there are a lot of us so it was a lot easier to create a diversion to get the booze or cover for someone who'd gotten a little too drunk. I made the mistake of drunkenly kissing Lorcan at a large family gathering over the summer. This has put me off the idea of drinking Fire Whiskey again. I'll probably just stick to elderflower wine next time."

He looks at me for a long moment, and I'm suddenly very aware of my arms hanging awkwardly at my sides. I cross them in front of my chest still just looking at him. I can't tell if it's becoming creepy or not. He then breaks out in a grin. And I have to admit it is a rather wonderful sight. It's toothy and charming, giving him small wrinkles around his eyes. I can't help but grin back.

"What?" I ask, pushing myself off the wall and uncrossing my arms again.

"Well Weasley, it's just you always struck me as being sort of vanilla." This comment doesn't sting like you'd expect. I'm actually quite ok for people to think I'm this innocent although rather outspoken witch. I don't need the whole school knowing that I lost my virginity to a muggle this summer; in a barn no less. I'm not exactly proud of this, but that's another Fire Whiskey story that is filled with regret. Not due to the sex, although it did seem a little short, and unfulfilling. But by just how long it took the next day to remove all the hay from my hair. I really don't want the whole school knowing that little nugget of gossip.

"But now I'm getting a more _butterscotch_ vibe."

"Oh ha bloody ha. Butterscotch, you're a genius Malfoy. Now we really should carry on these patrols." I'm still grinning as I grab his robes and drag him down the corridor.

"What happened to discussing the potions anyway?" I ask as the air settles again.

"We said we'd do that tomorrow," he shrugged, "Figured you'd still be able to. Plus I'm more interested to hear stories about how much Rose Weasley is not in fact this mild vanilla, I've been informed to expect." I look at him and he's still grinning stupidly. I have to wonder who's been talking to him about me. If it's Patricia, she, to put it nicely, knows absolutely bugger all about my private life. So she's drawing some pretty big conclusions from my evenings spent solo in my four poster.

"Fine. We can still do potions work tomorrow. But I'm not telling you anymore personal stories. That was your taste for the evening; come back next week and I might decide to tell you something else." I say this in the most nonchalant way, but I'm very aware it could be constituted as flirting. The whole phrasing sounded that way. I'm suddenly horrified at myself.

"You know what Weasley I might just take you up on that." He stops suddenly and pulls back a tapestry, pointing down the steep steps that are now flooded with light. "Passage down to the dungeons. Short-cut. We can go down there, back up to the first, cut up to the seventh and then back down to the third. We still do our expected amount but this is by far the quickest way of getting it done." He walks behind me and gives me a nudge.

"I'm actually quite impressed Malfoy," I admit.

"Stranger things have been known to happen than me having a good idea Weasley." He says this good naturedly and I light my wand and descend the steps. It's bloody freezing down in the dungeons. I'm not the biggest fan of being down here. It's rather damn and I can already see my breath in front of me. We come out a solid wooden door at the bottom of the passage and I extinguish my wand now we have the lights of the torches to guide us. We are met with the eerie green glow that seems to ooze from the walls themselves down here.

"You know, as much as you're wanting to rush through patrol, having this time to wander the halls can actually be put to good use." Before he can jump to conclusions that I'm inappropriately offering myself to him I add "practical spellwork and the like without anyone reprimanding you in the corridors." I can feel myself blushing a little, and thank Merlin that the dungeons are so poorly lit.

"You might have to elaborate that one." He says taking a sharp right turn down the potions corridor.

"Well, when me and Al patrol, we practise charms and transfiguration stuff. It's actually really useful. We've been practising a lot of non-verbal spells recently. There was only one time where it got a little bit out of control. Al bewitched a suit of armour and it wouldn't stop following us. Neither of us could remember the counter spell so we both tried a super-adhesive spell our grandmother told us about when we managed to get it more or less back to its original position. It still sometimes reached out and grabs at students, but thankfully we don't think a professor has ever seen it do that."

"That's rather resourceful." His brow is furrowed as we make the final sweep of the dungeons and ascend into the entrance hall. "It probably would be rather useful to keep my mind off things." He says, brow still furrowed. I can't help but send him a pitying look which he catches. He rolls his eyes. 

"Weasley, please don't look at me like that. I'm not about to break down or something." He sounds a little agitated. "I need a better nights sleep, that's all. Also I've decided after my nice chat with the guys, it's definitely Trish's loss and not mine."

I can't help a rather bark like laugh escape me.

"I believe you. I do." I nod at him grinning. He grins back which I'm glad of. He's a rather nice looking man to look at. I wouldn't lie to you. We stand there in the entrance hall for a few moments just grinning at each other like a couple of idiots and I wonder what the hell someone would think if they saw me and Malfoy just stood in the hall smiling toothily at each other. Probably that we accidentally ingested some tainted Essence of Euphoria by accident and have reached the "limbs become rigid" stage.

Finally he breaks my gaze and starts up the marble staircase. "What do you fancy practising then Weasley?"

"Non-verbal. Definitely."

And so we spend about another hour of our patrol doing various incantations non-verbally with a range of success. I manage to charm Malfoy's hair bright green and he retaliates with a mild curse that makes me grow a full white beard. I have to hand it to him, he knew the counter curse so I didn't have the heart to tell him it's a bit riskier to practice curses in the corridors in case you can't fix what you've done.

He's still tittering over the image of me with a beard when we get back to the prefect's office. We sign out and I tap the door with my wand to lock it as we exit.

"Well Weasley, that wasn't at all unpleasant." He says putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at me.

"Glad to hear it."

"Maybe we should move the potions chat down to the dungeons tomorrow. We could always start work on it. Get ahead of the curve?" I do like his suggestion. I weigh up the options.

"Well I guess if we start it tomorrow, it takes two and a half weeks to brew then we could test the effects compared to what's stated in the literature. That way we're bound to get extra credit."

"Always aiming high Weasley."

"It's a sin, I'm made very aware of that by my hordes of lazy cousins. But yeah, why not. We'll start the brew tomorrow."

"Alright then." He nods and turns to leave.

"I hope you feel a bit better tomorrow, Malfoy." I state honestly.

"Cheers Weasley. And seriously, thanks for not blowing my head off when I grew you a beard." I watch his retreating back as he heads towards his dungeon dorm.

"Oh and you can tell Potter he can keep the Thursday patrols if he wants." He speaks over his shoulder not turning round. I crack a grin at this.

I watch his retreating back for the second evening in succession. I can't help but feel surprised at how pleasant an evening I actually had. And with Malfoy no less. I turn and walk towards Gryffindor tower crossing my fingers in my pockets and willing the universe to let everything work out alright for the remainder of this project. I'm wondering why mine and Malfoy's previous encounters have seemed a lot more clipped and formal. I guess I can sleep on that and worry about it another time. I'm also happy to acknowledge that if I can make him laugh a time or two during this project I'd be happy just grinning there like an idiot with him.

 **Thoughts? Feelings? It's becoming a much slower burn than I expected to write. But it'll pick up soon. I don't get much time to write so you can thank the British Bank Holiday for this update.**


	3. Chapter 3

It's now I've come to realise, laid awake at 7.23am according to my bed side clock, that yes we agreed to start our brewing today but we didn't think to ask the Professor permission. Previous years of 6th and above have often been granted permission to use the smaller potions room beside the potions Professor's office for brews which require odd hours to combine ingredients. A few years ago my cousin Victoire and her now fiancé Teddy chose to brew a potion that required stirring at three, consecutive full moons before it was ready. I am pretty sure they were doing something extra-curricular at that time of night, but it's not really my place to judge. I'd also be a massive hypocrite after what I've mentioned about keeping some nuggets of my life private from my family.

Much to my chagrin at this hour I shuffle out of bed and shower quickly. The dormitory is colder by the day, but thankfully not as cold as the dungeons. This reminds me of Malfoy and my stomach becomes a little tighter as I put on my socks. I do have to scold myself a little. The boy might be good looking and charming but I'm way beyond that. Give me some wit and…oh who am I kidding. I was thinking about the guy when I got to my dormitory last night. Sue me. Actually don't as I'm already indebted to Albus for some family bet.

I'm feeling awfully conflicted. It truly is bizarre that we've been at the same school for over five years and barely held a conversation that wasn't about school work. And last night had been rather a breath of fresh air to me. It wasn't like I went out of my way to avoid him or anything over the past few years. We had just never really run in the same circles. I had a small tight knit group consisting of most Gryffindors and Ravenclaws with a Hufflepuff thrown in, but I'd never had so much as a mild feud with a Slytherin. They just struck me as more private people when it came to their affairs. The old guard's infamous rivalry is well documented, but the pettiness of it is almost humorous in this day and age of the wizarding world. We now even have muggle music on the wireless. Something we have our dearest Teddy Lupin to thank for. Integration is ever present. I'm pretty sure most of the Ravenclaws support Slytherin in their Quidditch endeavours (except when they play each other), which if you know anything about Quidditch you'd think there was some weird pact going on. The truth is that Slytherin beat Ravenclaw so badly the previous year and still invited them to their after party that was colour themed bronze and silver that they'd had to suck it up, admit the Slytherins were a tolerable, and an often generous bunch and understand that combining forces is more often than not; better than standing alone.

With all this in mind the last 48 hours I've been thinking a lot about why I never really integrated with more people, especially Slytherins when Malfoy is quite clearly a decent guy. I let this thought lead me to the bottom of the marble staircase. It's not even 8am yet, so there are only a few students around. Some eager first years and some tired looking seventh years; probably over worked already. After peaking my head into the Great Hall to scan the staff table, I then make a beeline towards the dungeons.

I'm almost at the entrance of the passage when Zabini and Malfoy ascend the stone steps down to the dungeons, chuckling and I almost walk straight into them.

"Sorry! Morning!" I say, straightening my robes. I notice Zabini's grin has been exchanged for one of what I would coin snooty indifference. He takes one glance at me and averts his eyes to the Great Hall; the smell of eggs and bacon becoming ever more apparent. I feel my brow furrowing at him as Malfoy speaks.

"Morning Weasley. Miss me already?" He quirks an eyebrow and smirks slightly.

"You wish Malfoy." I bat my eyelashes obviously at him and the smirk quickly turns to a grin. "Actually," I continue as Zabini returns his eyes to me, "I forgot that we agreed we'd start the potion tonight and we never actually thought or at least mentioned out loud that we'd ask Slughorn about using the NEWT potions room. Just thought I'd pop by and it'd be polite, you know, earlier in the day therefore he'd more likely say yes." I'm aware I've started to ramble. I'm also acutely aware of the way Zabini is looking me up and down as if sizing me up.

"Fair," Malfoy shrugged and nudged Zabini in the ribs. He glared at his friend. "Mate, it's impolite to stare." Malfoy added through gritted teeth. I would have made a retort that would no doubt have been incredibly witty to Zabini about how he could take a picture it'd last longer. Adding just enough smoulder that I wouldn't be considered rude, but not so flirty that Malfoy would get the wrong idea.

"Why are we just stood around the entrance to the dungeons this morning? Three students such as yourselves-," Slughorn has appeared at the entrance to the dungeons, the buttons on his jacket tort around his middle. He's looking from one of us to the other, clearly a little confused by the peculiar group of students before him.

"We were just leaving Professor." Drawled Zabini, tugging Malfoy with him towards the Great Hall. Malfoy flashed me an apologetic look followed by a wicked grin while attempting to jostle out of his friends grasp. My heart clenched slightly as I felt my face heat up as I grinned back. _What is wrong with me?_

"Miss Weasley. Would you kindly answer my question dear girl?" I turn to look at old Professor Slughorn. His jacket is a little more tatty than usual I noticed. He seemed to care less and less about his appearance the older he got. But he somehow managed to keep the Slytherins in order.

"Sorry about that Professor. I was actually coming to find you!" I say eagerly, knowing full well that Slughorn fancies me as one of his best students. I'm not bragging, honestly, I just work hard and yes I may try for extra credit assignments, but I'm learning magic for goodness sake. There is only so much they teach here and I want to drink up as much as I can before I leave. "I was wondering if we could start our potions project this evening? Malfoy and I wanted to get ahead of the curve and our potion takes three weeks to brew."

Slughorn eyes me suspiciously for a moment before his mouth quirks up on the left side. "You and Mr Malfoy? I thought he was partnered with Miss Greenwood?" I stroked his chin, clearly feigning interest in teenage gossip.

"They had a eh – " I bite my tongue trying to deliver this without getting anyone into trouble, "-disagreement. And Malfoy asked me if I'd fill in, and we came up with a pretty solid plan for the project. And he's a good student, and I honestly think we'll work well together." I finished, knowing I was pink in the face now. It didn't help that as I complimented Malfoy Slughorn's eyebrows rose a few inches. He takes a moment to survey my face as if trying to seek out any mistruths I've just told him and after a minute he seems satisfied.

"Very well Miss Weasley. You will sign in with me in my office to use the NEWT potions room. Please bring a plan of which nights of the following three weeks you'll require to use it. You will be required to finish in the room by 11pm each night, signed out and then back to your dormitories." I nodded.

"Yes sir, thanks."

"Oh and which potion is it that the two of you are to brew?"

"Felix Felicis, sir." Again Slughorn's eyebrows rose, if possible even further this time. He patted his belly so he appeared quite content as he moved past me and walked away stating as he went, "A wise choice for a Gryffindor-Slytherin pairing. I expect great things Miss Weasley." He sidled into the hall without so much as a backwards glance. I stood there for a moment, wondering if he meant anything by that. Then I realised that I was clearly over thinking it. I strode into the hall in the direction of the Slytherin table, making a beeline for Malfoy. He wasn't difficult to pick out with his blonde mop of hair. Zabini was the first to notice me approaching. Again looking like he was sizing me up. I gulped involuntarily which I hope neither he nor Malfoy noticed.

"We're all on for tonight Malfoy. Probably just meet down there at 7? Slughorn said to sign in with him." Malfoy glanced up from his coffee and nodded.

"Sounds good."

"Well I'll see you tonight then!" I said perhaps a little too brightly. Turning I wove my way towards the Gryffindor table. Not before I heard Zabini's closing remark as I left.

"When did Weasley get _hot_?" I am both horrified and embarrassed by this statement. This leaves me for most of the morning making excuses to Albus as to why I was red in the face. The comment kept repeating itself in my head. I don't believe I'm hot for a start. I've never understood those terms, hot, fit; things like that. It makes me cringe a little. I don't try very hard with my appearance and therefore I can't understand why I might ever fall into that category. Although I'm aware I'm not terrible to look at either. And that's in a family with a handful of part Veelas. Maybe I just need to grow up and learn to take a compliment. Or I could continue to do what I've always done and just thank the person with a punch on the arm.

I'm just glad I couldn't hear if Malfoy provided Zabini with any response.

XXX

Today must be the coldest day of the year so far. Even colder than January last year. I skidded on a puddle which had iced over on the third floor on my way to charms this afternoon and decided it was time to get out my dragon hide boots. I love these things. The soles are thick, rubbery, bouncy but above all have added magical grip. The material is black hide and crinkled which shimmers green in the light. They were a present this Christmas and I only stopped clomping around the castle in them in May because it became far too hot. They have a thin wool lining and can literally be worn with anything. They make me feel like I could actually fight a dragon. Their only downside is that it's quite obvious when I'm approaching down a corridor, killing any element of surprise if I were to want to creep up on someone.

So it's now as I stride down the dungeon corridor, each step echoing off the walls, that Slughorn appears outside his door as I approach his office. My bag swinging at my side, filled with books and notes almost swinging right into his stomach.

"Good evening Miss Weasley. If you'd care to sign in on the parchment on my desk, Mr Malfoy is already in the potions room." I'm surprised Malfoy is punctual for a change, but I don't dwell on it too much and make my way past Slughorn into his office.

"Cheers Professor." The office is much warmer than the corridor, with a small fire burning in the grate on the back wall. A few small boxes of crystallised pineapple litter a table pushed in the corner of the room along with stacks of parchment kept in place by a jar filled with what looks to be an animal organ of some description. If it wasn't for the numerous other jars prominent against the stone walls, the room might almost feel homely. I tear my eyes away from one particular jar that is definitely filled with eyeballs and scratch a simple _R. Weasley_ beneath the intricate cursive reading _S. Malfoy_. Ducking out of his office with another thank you to Slughorn, I ease open the thick wooden door to the smaller NEWT potions room. This room is rather dark lit by only a pair of torches on each wall. A cauldron is already set up on one of two tables in the back of the room, a fire glowing low beneath it. Glancing around I can't see Malfoy anywhere so I cross the room, dumping my bag beside the table and taking out my potions notes.

"Nice of you to join me Weasley." His voice comes from behind the door I just came in and I quite obviously jump an inch or so off the ground. I hear him chuckle.

"What on _earth_ were you doing hiding behind the door? Are you still mentally a second year?" I scold, embarrassed that he'd caught me by surprise. He just shrugged and manoeuvred across the room coming unnecessarily close to me as he went also perching beside the cauldron.

"I could hear you coming down the corridor. Those boots give you no element of surprise." He gestures at my shoes before prodding the fire with his wand.

"Oh." I say lamely sitting down next to him and shuffling through my notes. "It's not as if I'm late. You're early. That's a surprise in itself." I say still a little flustered.

"I haven't exactly started. I've just added a litre of water to bring to the boil." I absently scratch this off the list of instructions before me.

"Still…it's not like you to be punctual."

"I was bored. Thought I'd come down and make a start." He avoids my gaze. Something feels a little off. I decide not to pry, he divulged some information to me yesterday of his own accord so if there is something up he might just come out with it eventually. We do have about four hours to kill. The first night of the brew is exceptionally simple.

"Ok. You want to help me grab the ingredients from the cupboard?" _Breeze past it Weasley, just ignore that charged silence that followed his comment_. We collect dried nettles, horn of bicorn and two newt tails from the shelves in silence. Compared to how chatty he was yesterday, I'm convinced something is up. I don't know whether to bring up what Zabini said about me earlier, but decide that's probably the most egotistical thing I could do. Best to be avoided if I want to avoid any embarrassment.

"So I hear the Wasps are having a good season?" He finally looks at me, raising a blond eyebrow. I thought Quidditch was always a safe bet with the conversation direction. He takes out a silver knife and begins chopping a large sprig of nettles.

"Yeah. Maybe this year Harrison won't get hit in the head by a bludger during the final," it sounds like he's trying to hold himself back a little. "I didn't know you liked Quidditch, Weasley?" he enquires nudging my shoulder. I shudder involuntarily a little at his touch and pray he doesn't notice. I keep my eyes fixed on his knife precisely cutting the nettle stems; feeling his eyes on me.

"I'm a Weasley-" I begin again, "-playing, enjoying and an all-round interest in Quidditch is inherited." Grabbing the horn of bicorn I set to work grinding it into a powder.

"How'd you know my team was the Wasps?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious.

"Al told me. Or at least, he mentioned it in passing recently," I corrected. Not really wanting to divulge the conversation that prompted it, involving James bad mouthing him because of his surname.

"Huh. Who's your team then? If you say the Cannons I'm leaving this potions room and may just throw myself in the Black Lake." I laugh, appreciating the return of his good nature.

"No. That's my Dad's team. I'm a Harpies fan through and through."

"All about that girl power eh?"

"Got a problem with that?" I say, glaring at him, a little apprehensive that he's about to make some sort of misogynistic comment that will put me off him completely. Not just as a bloke but as a person. It's now that I realise I should probably put thoughts to the back of my mind about Malfoy being a bloke and instead only think of him as some faceless, genderless, disembodied voice without that gloriously charming smile. I realise I may have been a bit too judgemental as he raises his arms as if in surrender.

"I never said that Weasley." He grins at me, resuming his cutting of the nettles. "They've been a solid team for years. They're a respectable choice to support."

"Thanks. Not that I needed your approval." I add a little scathingly. _That's right, be a bit rude. Put the nice looking man off you straight away._ Again I have to mentally scold myself. It has literally been two days since him and Patricia broke up. I'm not behaving at all like myself. Malfoy is clearly a very bad, very smiley influence.

"Calm down Weasley. I didn't mean anything by it. What do you think of their new false-play tactic? I heard on the wireless in October during the Druids match that it played out quite well for them." I had to bite the bullet at this one. I'd listened to that match almost tearing my hair out. The play involved basically knackering out the other team, then striking back by scoring an unprecedented amount of goals, meaning no matter which team caught the snitch the Harpies would clench the victory.

This prompted the next two hours conversation in which Malfoy and I discussed point by point, play by play tactics of the top UK Quidditch division teams. We almost forgot to add the chopped nettles each half hour. Somehow in this time, the question I dreaded him asking the most hadn't come up. But it was inevitable.

"So," he began, stirring the potion counter-clockwise, "why don't you play? You're clearly as insanely passionate about the sport as I am." At this point I grabbed the half-ground horn of bicorn that'd been forgotten for the best part of an hour and stood up from the desk to get a better, more aggressive angle to grind from. I didn't say anything for a moment. A burning frustration beginning to swirl in my stomach.

"I never tried out," was about all I could muster without my voice breaking and becoming croaky.

"There must be a reason?" he nudged my arm again. I wish he wouldn't keep doing that, it's rather distracting. I continue to grind, even though the bicorn horn is already a fine powder. He grabs the pestle and mortar and takes it out of my hands, forcing me to look at him. He's wearing a questioning look, which is quickly replaced by an encouraging smile. And I just can't bloody well resist indulging him can I?

"Well, I wanted to in first year, but was obviously too young. Second year came and I got involved in other school stuff. Most of my family made the team by my fourth year, and now it just seems too late. I always play in the summer. My cousin James seems to think that I'd never be able to focus on the pitch long enough without flying off back to the castle to add another line or two to whatever essay I would be writing in the hypothetical situation where I would make the team." I sigh, letting my shoulders sag as if a literal weight has been lifted.

"That's a rather pathetic excuse." I turn to him, shocked. He says nothing more and instead begins sprinkling the powdered horn into the potion. It gradually turns from a pale green from the steeped nettles to a dark crimson. He gestures silently with his wand at the flames and they vanish.

"That was rather harsh." I finally manage.

"Why is it?" he rounds on me meeting my eyes. "You're passionate about it, already play, why didn't you try out?"

I huff in frustration, "probably because I don't want to show myself up when compared to the rest of my family."

"Well, when you put it like that…." He started. "The way you've been talking Weasley, I'd say you could fly loops around 'em." I blush at this quite obvious compliment. He nudges me again, and this time I move away a little. Unsure how else I could possibly react.

"Thanks Malfoy. Maybe next year." I push down that burning sensation, trying to cool it with thoughts of O grades and nights like this spent brewing potions in the dungeons. The truth is I do love Quidditch. And as the years have gone on the regret from not trying out has piled up.

"I could always sub if they lost a player." I blurted suddenly, not really aware for a moment that I'd said that thought out loud.

"Yeah, I'd ask Potter…the younger of the two."

"They're three of them."

"I meant of the blokes."

"Yeah, he'd take me a little more seriously."

"You don't want to leave Hogwarts with that sort of regret do you Weasley? Never even tried out for the house team?" they're rather loaded questions for a Tuesday night. But he's right. And I hate to admit I'm wrong. So I just nod. I toss the newt tails into the cauldron and we put it in one of the cupboards marked " _Sixth Year Potions Projects"_ to stew for three days.

We sign out with Slughorn and walk the short length of the corridor before we part to go to our separate dormitories. I can feel my eyes drooping already, and am dreading having to drag my tired body up to the seventh floor.

"You know, I don't think I've ever met a woman that can talk that much about Quidditch. I hate to admit that I'm impressed Weasley." He admits and _again_ he nudges me. I prod him in his upper arm in retaliation this time.

"You realise I'm never going to let you forget that you said that you found me impressive. Right?" He rolls his eyes in response before looking at me. We stare at each other for a moment. We seem to be getting pretty good at that.

"Did you get a haircut?" he suddenly questions. If I'm not mistaken a light flush covers his cheekbones for a moment. I'm a little thrown off by this change of pace and instinctively reach up tugging on the ends of my hair that now falls loose to my shoulders. Then I realise what he's just asked and chuckle.

"Yeah. In like, the summer." I laugh harder now. Grinning up at him waggling my eyebrows.

"Oh." He doesn't grin back, instead I notice his eyes drop to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes again. His eyes darken as he takes a step towards me. Alarm bells begin to go off faintly in my head.

"I better go Malfoy. We don't want to be out past curfew. Personally I don't have a lot of time to give up for detentions." I attempt light heartedly after that really peculiar exchange, taking a step back.

"Yeah, you're right. Night, Weasley." He seems to shake himself from whatever he was thinking, sends me a cursory wave and heads towards the Slytherin common room without another word.

When I finally manage to make it up to my dormitory my mind is positively reeling. I'm almost certain if I hadn't moved away, Malfoy would have kissed me. Right there and then in the dungeons. Two days after he's broken up with his girlfriend. _Two days._ I put my head in my hands as I sit on my bed, cringing inwardly. I'm very aware that they'd only been seeing each other for about five weeks but still. I didn't really know the guy. What on earth is he playing at? He can't possibly like me. He must just be in search of some sort of rebound from Patricia. I attempt to quash those thoughts quickly. We actually get on absurdly well for two people who've never really hung out before, it might have been a reaction to that. Albeit, a bit too soon in my opinion. Whether he either thinks I'm funny or we find each other funny can't be a bad thing though, right? _And oh god that bloody toothy gorgeous grin._ I hit myself in the side of the head for that last thought, cringing again at berating myself physically. I think I've gone mental. Well done Malfoy.

I dream I'm throwing quaffle after quaffle at Malfoy as Keeper and nothing is getting past him. I can hear Patricia whooping and cheering unusually loud considering the size of the pitch and distance between us and the stands. I'm becoming more and more frustrated as another quaffle flies super close to the middle hoop and Malfoy just about manages to save it with the tips of his fingers. He flies right towards me, grabbing the front of my robes, bringing our faces within inches of each other. His usual grin is replaced by a sneer which looks strikingly out of place on his face as he leans in. I sit bolt upright in bed, awake. My sheets are currently wrapped awkwardly around my legs. I shake my head, trying to erase the image of Malfoy's face so close to mine from the inside of my eyelids. I flop back onto my pillow.

 _Well done Malfoy_. Now I'm dreaming about you.

 **Well, I apologise that this is more of a filler chapter. I really wanted some more interaction before anything kicked off with the two of them, but there was some hints towards the end there. A few unusual things happening which will also be elaborated upon in the next chapter. Also if it drags a little, it's probably because I just wanted to get this out there as I'm really excited about the contents of the next chapter!  
Reviews always welcome. Apologies for any mistakes I didn't manage to pick up on, my tired eyes could only manage the thrice over.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello all! Thank you to the reviewers and those patient enough to keep reading and even following. I'm flattered and humbled. I've been distracted by a few stories myself for a while. Recently discovering a series by an author called Slide, which had me hooked in about half a chapter. I'm halfway through the second part and I recommend to anyone who enjoys a damn good story and narrative; along with Scorose. Also the writing and story telling is a lot better than mine. I just want to write a bit of fluff at the end of the day (albeit long-winded fluff). Also while I'm on recommendations there is a story called A Fight for Love and Glory that I absolutely love (I can't remember the author), another Scorose if you've not come across it - worth every minute it takes to read it!  
And so ... on with the show.**

* * *

The past week or so has gone by in a blur. While the majority of the student body has been increasingly excitable about the forthcoming Quidditch match, my focus has been on my developing friendship with one Scorpius Malfoy. We've spent another four evenings together, three in the small potions room and one on Monday evening patrols again. The past two evening potions sessions had involved a lot of hand grazing when passing ingredients and by Sunday night I'd somehow managed to get my blush in check when it happened. I believe he was just doing it as my flushed, silent embarrassment was clearly amusing to him. The same evening had found us heatedly debating the rights of goblins since the beginning of the 20th century and culminated in me stood on a stool in the small potions room pledging my allegiance to wizard kind while promoting relations between all magical creatures. He'd shaken his head muttering, "When the goblins come for blood Weasley, don't say I didn't warn you."

The potion itself is actually coming along rather well. Somehow, when we can keep from laughing at one another we appear to indeed make a rather reliable team. Slughorn did not seem at all surprised to hear our progress was exceptional. It definitely doesn't really hurt that both me and Malfoy have found a balance alternating between stroking each other's egos with simpering sarcasm and quick wit put-downs to put each other in our place again. This chatter somehow doesn't distract but somehow promotes efficiency in our teamwork. When I went to bed last night I had to remind myself that we'd actually only been on such friendly terms for about eight days. I put our close rapport down to attending a boarding school and therefore spending an unusual amount of time together in such a short space of time forms bonds in a rather condensed manner. Well that's my excuse for accepting the mild flirting in favour of guilt feelings for Malfoy's failed relationship. He appears to be putting it behind him at the very least.

The Monday evening patrol was easily the most unusual of our recent encounters. I hadn't expected him to appear in the office instead of Albus. With the amount of work piling up I needed to get done I'd actually forgotten he said he might keep the Monday night shift. But then he waltzed in, bookbag flung over one shoulder suggesting he'd just come from the library.

Signing the parchment with a flourish and a casual, "eeeeevening." He dropped his bag and literally dragged me by the neck of my robes out the door.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" I question as we stroll down the corridor in step with one another.

"Ah, well. Firstly I get to spend the evening in the company of the _butterscotch_ flavoured Weasley and secondly if we play like we did in practice last night, we'll absolutely crush Ravenclaw on Saturday." He was rubbing his hands together looking rather pleased with himself.

"Well, _firstly_ you have to stop referring to me as that. It's not a flattering name at all. Secondly, I don't doubt it. I've seen how hard you work to beat me in defence, I'm sure you're aiming to crush Ravenclaw into a pulp of blue robes and twigs." He laughed, conjuring a shiny bronze goblet from thin air and handing it to me.

"Nice one Malfoy. _Aguamenti_ ," I said, pointing my wand at the rim of the goblet, filling it close to the brim with water.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while. I sipped the water I'd made musing on the warm feeling in my belly when we spend time in each other's company. I can't get too attached it I know, but it feels far too pleasant to quash right now. It'd been stopping me shivering down the chilling corridors.

"You know," he pipes up, pulling the same tapestry away from the passage leading down to the dungeons, "I never thought we'd actually become friendly, Weasley." I light my wand and descend the steps slowly. I mulled over this comment before he spoke again. Instead he just chuckled to himself while shaking his head.

"What?" I tried to prompt. He was silent for a while. All that was heard was our slow footsteps padding on the stone floor of the dungeon. His face was screwed up struggling it seemed to form an understandable sentence.

"Well," he began, "nah Weasley it's just too weird."

"Go on. How about I promise I won't laugh?" I throw him a positively wicked grin that I hope he won't be able to refuse.

"Fine. I shouldn't have said anything to begin with. Should have known you'd not let it drop." He smirked, what looked like more to himself than anything.

"I never made an effort to speak to you before last week because….well…. you were like this…forbidden fruit or something." I could see him blushing, even in the pale green glow of the dungeons, so I dread to think the flush that showed up on my cheeks.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" I managed to splutter.

He seemed to struggle for the right words again, "Look at our families history. Us sorted into different houses meant friendship would be difficult in itself. Especially for the outlook of a first year. Basically you're pretty cool Weasley. Better late than never us hanging out eh?" A little bit of my heart died in my throat at that moment. _Damn, thought I'd get a saucy confession of some kind then there. Hold the phone Weasley he used the phrase 'forbidden fruit'; I'd say that's a win._

"Right." I nodded in response. I was honestly shocked into silence at this point.

In the end, that night we forgot about rounds altogether, and to defer from where the conversation was heading due to my innate ability to avoid the obvious I directed us towards the portrait leading to the kitchens which meant us arguing over what was the better snack food. His blueberry muffin or my extra juicy tangerine. I quite literally had to lean on the nearest table in the kitchens when he leant with a finger to gently graze the right side of my mouth removing some juice and then licking said finger. That was easily the most sexy moment of my life so far. Something that I would _never_ tell Malfoy, but my inability to use my legs for a while may have been a tad giveaway.

XXXX

Right now it's the Friday before the Ravenclaw Slytherin match and I'm sat at the Gryffindor table with my Charms textbook propped up against the milk jug. I'm trying to concentrate but Albus and James are having some sort of heated argument involving galleons with one of the Scamander twins. I could only tell by the voice. If I'd only seen them I would never have been able to decide which twin was which. I rub my temples gently. I need to chat this little _problem_ I'm having with Malfoy over with someone. I don't think Albus would appreciate it all that much if I confessed where my thoughts were leading with Malfoy. Although I don't think he'd judge based on surname or house, I'd still be worried about him getting protective; no, he's not the one I can ask for advice.

I scan the Great Hall contemplating who I should ask for help. Then I have to slap myself with my Charms book for being so stupid. I _do_ have other friends. No matter what I've lead you to believe. I've just neglected them a little with my ridiculous work load at the moment. At the moment the guilt sets in as I catch her eye at the Hufflepuff table. I grin and bounce over on the balls of my feet like an eager puppy dog. She raises an eyebrow and grins herself.

I should elaborate a little. The girl I'm off to drag away to gossip with is none other than my female partner in crime, Alice Longbottom. We've been there for each other since we were toddlers. Quite literally considering our parents fought together in the war against Voldemort. But somehow we'd have been friends otherwise, I'm sure of it. She's the sassiest Hufflepuff I know and she's so god damn bloody loyal she often stays a little too neutral if me and one of my other cousins is arguing. We've spent most summers together for the past 16 years, even those I don't really remember. It's not til now that I realise just how long it's been since we properly spoke. All that NEWT work overloading most working seconds, _that you're not spending being all doe eyed with Malfoy._ I know I'm not bloody doe-eyed. _You gotta admit, that grin…_ I'll have to owe her if she's happy to chat. Clearly I need it. Big time.

"What do you want Rose?" she asks bluntly as I straddle the bench opposite.

"Can I have a word Alice?"

"So you barely speak to me since term started and NOW you want to talk? What's in it for me?" she waggles an eyebrow, biting the end of a sausage with vigor.

"A…Alice I'm sorry. I've just been ridiculously busy. And we don't share many lessons anymore. And oh god you're messing with me aren't you?" I notice the grin twitching the side of her face, a tell I've seen many a hundred times.

"Of course you idiot. I had to spend most of the summer with you. And we get a chance it's always good." My heart sores at her honesty. This is why I love Alice, she's bloody damn reliable. "So go on whats the sitch?" she probes.

I look over my shoulder towards the Slytherin table but turn quickly back, not wanting anyone to get the wrong… _you mean right_ …idea. "Erm….can we go somewhere a little more private?" I'm clearly blushing as her eyes light up and she nods knowingly.

"Ooooooohhhh I like the sounds of this. Don't miss me too much fellas!" she gestures with her hand towards the other end of the table, only one chap sat in the group of four girls looks up as if he wasn't even paying attention to the exchange.

We meander out towards the lake, exchanging pleasantries and a few complains about various teachers.

"So overall synopsis of first term?"

"Oh you know, I've already found three grey hairs and received a detention for a late homework hand in. But all in all I'm surviving. I had it in my head as this huge stepping stone but it's just an uphill struggle with an even greater reward."

"You sounds like you're in great shape." I say, kicking a small pebble into the lake.

"Well, to an extent I guess, but this isn't why I gave up my morning free period. School chat can wait for another time. What's your issue? The last time you actually physically removed me from the hall to talk was when you'd lost Al's invisibility cloak and you feared Peeve's had stolen it back in third year. I know full well this isn't one of those issues. Not with that blush I saw back in the hall. So spill."

"Ha, the issue ain't quite that bad I guess."

"Go on Rose. It's me you know I hold no judgement. Unless you've started a new DADA to be "just like your parents" I'm going to throw you, by hand into the lake." I chuckle, considering this is the second threat I've recently received threatening to throw me in the lake. I wonder if it really is as bad as people seem to think it is, as to dish it out as some sort of punishment.

"No no. Ok, well, this is difficult to explain."

"I've now only got over half a free period. Stop stalling!" she prods me aggressively in the arm.

"Well, I think there is something sort of going on with me and someone."

"Wow ….. could you be more vague?"

"Ok," I take a deep breath, "It's Malfoy."

There is silence. I scrunch up my eyes for the inevitable arguments against pursuing this venture. He's a Slytherin, he's a Malfoy and all those other loose and frankly terrible excuses. What I don't expect is her following question; "Draco?" I burst out into hearty giggles. It takes Alice two seconds before she succumbs to them as well.

"No his son you tit." I splutter best I can. How Alice has made the situation so light hearted has made me feel like a weigh has been lifted already by this small confession.

"I know, I was just pulling your leg. This must have happened pretty quick. Wasn't he with Patricia like last week?"

"Well two and a bit weeks ago. I was the reason they broke up." I didn't think the last bit was necessarily needed, but the shocked silence that followed showed I could have delivered this confession better.

"I probably gave the wrong impression there. As in, I'm the one who accidentally let slip that Patricia was cheating. And it all sort of got a little out of control from there." My shoulders sagged and I sighed, looking up to the castle.

"And Malfoy just jumped into your arms?" Alice was clearly teasing me at this point and I was thankful. In my head I've elaborated this situation into far more than what it is. She was bringing me slowly down to earth.

"Not exactly. Through patrols and now being potions partners we've been thrown together quite a lot the last few weeks. And I never thought I'd say this, but me and Malfoy get on unusually well."

"You mean more so that you'd expect due to your families? Or at least, correct me if I'm wrong but that's what the issue is here isn't it? What it boils down too?"

"Well, yeah." I admit. We turn and begin to trace our steps back up to the castle on instinct.

"I can't believe you and Malfoy!"

"Nothing has actually happened yet you know. Think you need to remember that one!"

"But you want something too?" I nod. "Imagine what your dad would say." Alice grins so evilly at that moment that I have to promise Helga that she doesn't in fact belong in Slytherin.

"I think the undertone to this is that it's actually part of his appeal." She barks a laugh as we come about twenty or so metres from the castle and we stop. There are a few students milling around the entrance, adorned in scarves and hats to combat the cold. I draw my robes tighter around myself.

"Of course, his grin is gorgeous, and it can't hurt to let of some steam with a guy right? Relieve some stress of all this work in those few fleeting moments of free time."

"That's a pretty bold claim Rose. Just….you don't want to get hurt right? I don't want you to get hurt either, just to be clear. Be careful."

"I know, I know. Malfoy the heartbreaker. He really ain't that much of one."

"But you are right, his grin is freaking amazing."

"Ok, so I have the girl seal of approval then?" I smile warmly at her in thanks.

"Of course Rose. My lips are sealed as usual. But seriously, your dad finding out that you're seeing a Malfoy. Can I please be there when you tell him? He'll do his nut."

"Nothing has happened yet Alice!" I cringe at the thought of my dad chasing Malfoy out of my house with a wooden spoon in place of a wand. I'm not entirely sure why in my imagination my father does not brandish his wand as Malfoy stumbles down our garden path and out of sight. I guess it makes Malfoy seem a little safer if my dad doesn't have access to his wand.

"Clearly something is in the pipeline though. There is this unmistakable conviction in your voice as if something has happened already."

I just look at her helplessly, not really knowing how to respond.

"You just better tell me when something does!" I hesitate and it's as if she's reading my mind, "You are a teenager Rose. Sometimes that thing that you don't think is a good idea might be just what you need to let loose. You said yourself." I give her a hug in thanks and we promise to grab a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks the following weekend during the Hogsmeade visit. The butterbeer is most certainly on me. It doesn't even surprise me that Alice barely batted an eyelid that it was Malfoy that I was trying to become involved with. The supportive friend is in, my cousin doesn't think he's a bad guy. I clearly am becoming attached to that charming smile of his. What could possibly go wrong? _You shouldn't have said that._

Evidently, I'm just going to have to be my usual suave self to win him over.

* * *

 **You must all be mad. Nothing has happened between our two stars just yet. So much for a short, but long-winded Scorose fic. But ... _drum roll_ ... something WILL happen shortly. Half the next chapter is written and just needs some edits and additions.  
** **A few things from questions/queries and just FYIs. Firstly this story will remain in Rose's POV. This is mainly because easing myself back into writing I'm putting a lot of myself into Rose before I try something more elaborate. I do really want to do a Scorpius POV story at some point though. We will have an encounter between Patricia and the lovely Rose Weasley in the next chapter. And we might get some Quidditch. A lot is going to be going on!  
** **Reviews are always welcome. If anything constructive criticism is, in some ways, even better!**


	5. Chapter 5

Tonight is our last brewing session before we bottle some of that trickster Felix Felicis to test. Sadly, the testing will probably be next week. This being the eve of the Ravenclaw vs Slytherin quidditch match, naturally that has been the main topic of discussion. Malfoy has tried rather hard to not tell me explicit details of the manoeuvres and plays the Slytherin team are planning to pull off; insisting that I'll have to see it with my own eyes tomorrow. Alice's words have been bouncing around my head for most of the day. It's not like me to be like this about a guy. Malfoy is just an unusual character. He isn't all over me like some of the tactless oddballs from the years below but he's also not afraid to be flirtatious and did I mention he _oozes_ charm when he wants to. Yeah I thought so. He did pull a curl of my hair gently earlier to get my attention. I was too focused on the tingling at his touch to even realise what he'd said when I looked at him.

These little touches and unnecessary grazing and nudging from someone who just wants to be "friends" are piling up. I'm not normally a person who can sit around and wait for things to happen. I'm impatient and just a tad impulsive. So right now, my best idea of cornering Malfoy and asking him whether there is anything behind those lingering stares I've got to get myself an invitation to the post-match Slytherin party (they're that confident it's already planned and will no doubt go ahead no matter what the outcome.) It's either that or I burst in unannounced once the butterbeer is flowing to congratulate or console him.

To conclude it seems my mind has rather taken to the idea of fooling around with Scorpius Malfoy. There I said it. The entire world can hear my confession now. _Snog me silly if you really want to Malfoy._

It's at this point I'm pulled from my rather sordid ravine as Malfoy disappears behind me into the ingredients cupboard, arms laden with boxes of things we've finished with. I'm stirring the fluorescent yellow liquid when I feel his breath on my neck as he leans over my shoulder to inspect the cauldron's contents. I struggled to repress a shudder, instead shuffling slightly down the bench.

"We're doing alright here Weasley." Again he's moved across from me once again and is bent over the cauldron inspecting the contents. He closes his eyes and inhales the fumes deeply. "I can't put my finger on what this potion smells of." He takes up a cup we've had heating separately for an hour containing shrivelfig juice and slowly adds this into the cauldron. I continue stirring; watching as he takes another deep breath, the fluid turning the colour of egg yolk. "There! That's what I've smelt in Slughorn's room before a few weeks ago."

I raise an eyebrow in response; "It's not like Amortentia you know?" he looks up catching my eye and grins slightly.

"I know Weasley, but Felix isn't odourless is it? Nothing like Veritaserum. You remember what the book says? We'll have to put it in our assessment of the aroma at the very least. _Aaaaannnnd_ this also indicates the end of this potioneering venture!" The disappointment must be evident on my face as he nudges me gently in the ribs. I switch stirring arms, my right one getting stiff from continued movement.

"Well it's not quite finished yet." I say, stirring the contents of the cauldron anti-clockwise as the book instructs, scanning the previous page for some hint of the appropriate smell of the final outcome. Malfoy is doing the same and I see his eyes widen at the bottom of the previous page. He looks up at me, his face showing what I could only describe as giddiness. He turns the book and pushes it towards me, a pale index finger pointing at the final sentence.

" _The aroma of the potion, if successful should mirror that of-_ " my eyes widen as well and I feel my cheeks heat up, reddening under the torchlight.

"Go on Weasley." He urges, his face now resembling that of a small child delighted at Christmas.

I take a deep breath almost hearing the inevitable mocking to ensue, "- _butterscotch._ " He whacks the table with a fist and keels over laughing, holding his stomach. I just stand there looking flushed with embarrassment at the previous joke a few days ago. I sigh and shake my head.

"Weasley-" he gasps, "how appropriate-" I silently wish he chokes on his own laughter and I leave his lifeless body in the dungeons "-it's _your_ flavour." He wipes his eyes as his laughter finally slows.

"I'm glad you find this so hilarious," I snap angrily, "I don't have a _flavour_." I cannot bring myself to look at him. I'm both annoyed and frustrated. Realising that he has no possible idea of what's going on in my head I have to mentally shake myself. This evening has still been full of the light flirting that I've become accustomed to but I just want a bit more of an obvious signal before I really put my foot in the fire. Mocking back and forth doesn't really feel like enough.

"Sod this," I say throwing the spoon down on the counter where it smokes slightly from potion residue, "now I'm hungry. Wanna come to the kitchens?"

"Aww come on Weasley, it is a little funny." He grabs his book while I start packing up my things.

"As I said; absolutely hilarious," I deadpan.

"Why are you packing up?"

"For laughing you can put the potion away after our little detour." He doesn't argue but narrows his eyes. After turning the heat down to a light simmer we exit the potions room pulling the door shut behind us. I shoulder my book bag, rummaging around for anything I can possibly eat on the way. I pull out a rather dusty looking sherbet lemon and my nose instinctively wrinkles.

I can almost feel the grin emanating off Malfoy as he falls into step beside me.

"What?" I say, unable to resist smiling right back at him encouragingly. I should know better by now of course.

"I'll give you a sickle if you to eat it." I look at him wide eyed and back at the fluff stuck to the sweet. I screw up my face.

"You're alright Malfoy. I'll give you absolutely nothing to watch you eat it though." I waggle it in front of his face as he draws himself away.

"S'alright, I'm not a fan of sherbet lemons. More of a liquorice wand man myself." I nod in approval and continue down the corridor with a chuckle. After a few minutes I stop short as I hear a muffled clatter down the corridor and instinctively take out my wand. Malfoy also stops but instead his brow furrows.

"That came from a broom cupboard." Malfoy hisses across to me barely moving his mouth. I match his frown. I've not seen him look this serious in days, which in itself puts me a little bit on edge.

"So realistically we should check it out. As prefects it's part of our duty. It's probably only students." I try to avoid using the phrase _fooling around_ as it would be rather hypocritical given the thoughts I've been recently having. I'm glad my voice sounds steady as the longer we wait the more I become aware of my heart pounding heavily in my chest. The dungeons are without a doubt the creepiest place in the castle and I'm glad I'm not stood here alone making this night-time discovery. Just incase.

"We aren't on duty." He replies scathingly staring blankly down the corridor.

I can't help but look at him in surprise. Throwing caution to the wind I stride around the corner of damp brick to hear what now sounds like giggling and scuffing behind a tatty wooden door set into the stone. I turn around to find Malfoy shuffling towards me, reluctantly taking out his wand. I raise my eyebrows and wave a hand in front of his face to get his attention. I then point at the door as animatedly as I can to try to humour him and mime being terrified and jogging away. One side of his face twitches and he shakes his head before pointing at the door handle. I nod in reply to his silent communication and grasp the cold metal before throwing the door open, spilling the green glow onto the couple entwined within.

My heart stops and my jaw drops. Of course it's Davies and Patricia; eyes wide and clothes crumpled. I daren't look at Malfoy as I feel myself flush in the darkness. We stand there for a few moments before I hear Malfoy speak.

"My, my Trish. So embarrassed of Davies you have to hide him away in the dungeons?" It's a cheap blow, and obviously a lie. He's speaking in an uncharacteristic drawl. One I'm almost certain he's never used when speaking to me; something I'm now glad of. It makes him sound cold and uncaring, nothing like his usual almost jovial self. Neither of them say anything. Patricia looks at him with mild distain before pulling herself into the corridor as gracefully as she can re fastening the top buttons of her shirt.

"Scorpius. May I remind you that you don't own any parts of the castle. No matter how much money your father still has." I gasped quietly from the shadows and I saw Malfoy's knuckles whiten around his wand now pointed at Patricia.

"I think it's time you leave Trish. You have no right by all of Salazar to speak about my family like that." He spat, voice shaking.

Unfortunately for me Patricia appeared to have noticed my presence in the corridor and rounded on me. She smiled and cocked her head at me.

"Rose. What the devil are you doing down here with my ex boyfriend?" she was smiling sweetly which I knew was rather dangerous. I'd slept in a dormitory with her for a fair few years and knew she could be a rather vindictive individual when she wanted to be. I opened my mouth and closed it a few times, no words coming to mind. What could I say? _Oh yes I was kind of hoping to get with your ex at some point in the near future He is just so charming afterall._ No there'd be no blunt truths tonight.

I gave Malfoy a grateful look as he answered for me, "We're now doing the potions project together since you weren't….an appropriate choice of partner anymore." His eyes never left her face. She barely glanced at him but continued to look me over.

"Oh of course. Brains," she gestured towards Malfoy, "meet Brainiac." She chuckled darkly still looking at me. "Never thought you'd go for a redhead Scorpius. Your track record has been nothing but blondes after all." I felt myself flush again as she whipped her hair over her shoulder.

"I think it's time we left Trish." Davies muttered tugging at her hand unable, it appeared, to look any of us in the eye.

"Yes. You still want to be able to ride on a broom tomorrow don't you Davies? Time for bed I think. Now run along." sneered Malfoy pointed his wand threateningly to the crotch of Davies' trousers. Patricia stepped in front of him in one flowing movement.

"Let's not be childish Scorpius. We'll leave you and dear _Rosie_ to your potion brewing. If that's what the kids call it these days. I know you'll be sleeping Scorpius, _Rosie_ here certainly won't be keeping you up." She flashed another grin at me before turning on her heal dragging Davies with her. Anger riled in me at that moment. _How dare she imply…remember you'd rather keep your private life private…..yes but I'd rather Malfoy not think that of me…if he thinks less of you because you're potentially innocent then he truly isn't worth it is he Rose?_

Finally regained the ability to speak I yelled after them. "Detention for both of you for being in an area of the castle, prohibited entry without a Professor's permission. Four Saturday afternoons starting tomorrow is an appropriate punishment." I relied on my good memory for choosing a suitable punishment that might make Malfoy feel a little better as well as me getting some mild revenge for hurtful and quite frankly untrue comments.

"You can't-" Patricia began, swirling round to storm back towards me but Malfoy raised his wand.

"Leave it Trish. Weasley picked a fair punishment for you, a prefect, someone who should know better. Be grateful it wasn't me doling out punishments." His voice like ice in the gloom. Paticia looked at him for a moment, realising he was right she huffed and strode out of site.

I didn't dare say anything at this point. But I knew I had to get Malfoy out of there. I waved my wand silently closing the broom cupboard door and put my hand on his shoulder. He was still watching the corridor where she'd disappeared. He glanced down at me and his fury seemed to melt slightly.

"Let's get you the biggest muffin the house elves can carry." Was all I could come up with and steered him towards the kitchens once again. I tickled the pear, engaged and exchanged pleasantries with the house elves and lead Malfoy to a small table in the corner of the kitchens with two giant triple chocolate muffins. After a few bites of his muffin he spoke.

"She can be a nasty piece of work for a Gryffindor. Sorry she spoke to you like that."

"Yeah, I think the Sorting hat struggles when some people's characters blur the lines so much. I don't remember when she became so nasty."

"Oh she always has been. She's just very…. sneaky about it." He takes a giant bite of muffin and chews silently.

"You know the rumours that Davies might have an WSI?" I blurt out. I almost slap myself in the face for my crudeness. Talking about Wizarding Sexual Infections over a muffin. There is some horrible truth behind that as the fact is not lost on Malfoy as his eyes sparkle darkly between chewing.

"All the better that she's with him after me eh?" he says clearly. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before attempting the muffin Everest once again.

"You must have really liked her?" I forced myself to say it. Get knocked down before I get attached to the idea of something happening between us, especially how he reacted to finding Patricia and Davies together tonight.

"No Weasley. It was a fun fling. I just can't accept infidelity. I think it's one of the worst things you can do to someone else. Breaking their trust. Unforgiveable." I raise my eyebrows surprised by his brutal honesty.

"People seem to think that I'm this ladies' man, but don't believe it." I take another bite of muffin. "Also I'd rather not waste my time speaking about her any more than I need to. Let's just enjoy the free sweets these house elves always so generously provide." He high-fived a passing house elf as he spoke, gradually regaining his usual cheerful self.

"Also for the record; I'm not _just_ into blondes." I'd been distracted watching a house elf carry four trays between his tiny arms each laden with a collection of polished cutlery, but this got my attention. I tried to calmly look him in the eye. He wasn't smiling this time. Just looking at me. I had to try my usual awkward attempt of wit in response to cover my thudding heart.

"Oh I know. I saw you wink at McGonagall once, whether she was looking or not. I'd say even at her age she'd pass for a brunette." His lip twitched as his eyes twinkled.

"Just don't believe everything you hear alright Weasley?" he asked sounding mildly amused.

I pushed the rest of the muffin into my mouth to avoid having to come up with a quick response and exaggerated a shrugging gesture, pointing towards the door to leave. _You're being given a possible in here Weasley! What do you think you're playing at?_ Having managed to swallow the muffin without choking I stood up to leave, hoping he'd be following close behind.

"I mean, I can't imagine why you'd want to be with a fiery redhead anyway. They're often stubborn."

"I can be persuasive," I heard his reply as I climbed through the kitchens entrance.

"They can be irrational."

"It's a good thing I'm calm in a crisis."

"Most of them in Hogwarts are related to Ron Weasley." I try turning to face him, unable to wipe the challenging and cheeky grin that I've got plastered on my face. He looks at me for a moment, clearly considering how best to answer this.

"I can run rather fast." He stated. That's when the laughter came. All the tension of the night seemed to be lifted in this moment. And although I was thinking about my father chasing him down Diagon Alley, again with a spoon for some reason I am pretty convinced that that little exchange was Malfoy making his move. _Oh universe, do correct me if I'm wrong._

I was leant against the wall for a few moments opposite him bent over laughing for a good solid minute before the laughter subsided. I gasped for air holding my chest grinning widely across at him. Malfoy is clearly just as mental as me. Our breathing seemed to ease somewhat and we just stood leant against each wall just beaming at each other. I'd bet a few Galleons that my uncle would never believe that a Malfoy could have this good a sense of humour.

He pushed himself off the wall towards me suddenly and the air seemed to still. The corridor was deathly quiet now without our trill laughter playing off the stone walls. He took another step as I straightened up; preparing for a standoff. This time I would stand my ground. See what happens. My human and perhaps teenage hormone fuelled curiosity getting the better of me and I know exactly how I'd like this scenario to play out.

Another step and he was only a foot away. Alice's words repeated themselves in my head: _you are a teenager Rose. Sometimes that thing that you don't think is a good idea might be just what you need to let loose._ His eyes dropped down to my lips once again, I hoped this was him making his intentions painfully obvious. I could feel my stomach clenching with nerves. His eyes lock with mine and I see them darken once again, instinctively, my eyes drop to his lips for a moment, noticing the slightly parted mouth and pale pink lips. It seems like an age he stands there looking at me, while I stubbornly stand my ground, waiting for whatever he's planning on doing. The left side of his mouth quirks up as I hear myself audibly gulp, clearly he's amused by this compromising position and its effect on me. I ask you: _who wouldn't be a little anxious when a rather handsome gentleman is edging his face closer and closer to yours? No didn't think there'd be many complaints from the audience._

I don't know how long we stand there, still just looking. It's almost as if we expect the other to back down. But this time I don't. It's a challenge. The choice is his. I'm not moving, so if he really wants to get well acquainted with the wall behind me he might have to do something, _anything_ , physical to make me move away from it.

And he does, the other side of his mouth quirks up in what can only be described as the most adorable smile I've ever seen on a man and he bends his head down pressing his lips full to mine. There are no arms wrapped round the waist. No fireworks. Just his lips on mine for a moment before he moves away. I'm left with my lips tingling with the echo of his touch. I didn't even have a chance to close my eyes. There is an unmistakeable flush across his cheeks now and a searching grin. _That bastard._ That's all I'm going to get without going for it myself. _He's definitely cunning this one. I take back what I said._ I resist every urge I have to grin back cheekily in response and just walk away from such a pathetic attempt at amorous for a Friday night but my body's in control now. The previous meetings of the night forgotten entirely.

I take one last glance directly into those blue eyes before I throw all caution to the wind, heed Alice's words; I grab a handful of the front of his robes and pull his face crashing into mine. I immediately don't know whose hands are whose as I'm lost in his touch as our lips sear together fiercely. He thrusts me against the wall, pushing his body flush against mine and I bite down on his bottom lip to stop from letting out a low moan from the back of my throat. Instead I've exerted some sort of strangled sound from him which leaves me grinning against his kiss. Which, by the way, is becoming more rushed and frantic by the second. My hands are under his shirt grazing the skin of his torso and both his hands are woven into my hair pulling me even closer. I've _never_ felt like this when kissing someone. Like that's all they have to keep hold of on the earth's surface from floating away. Every inch of my body feels hotter with each passing second we keep this up but eventually as his tongue glides past mine one last time I lean back, catching his eye. It's quite clear, having felt him get hard against me what effect this is having on him. So, being as nonchalant as ever, I decide to get him back for his "I'll give you a quick peck and you can do the rest thing." I think snogging me senseless proved that the Malfoy boy might just have a thing for me.

I lean in once more pressing our lips together; hard. Pulling away, but not before I bite and tug on his bottom lip, feeling his nails dig into my back in response. His eyes are dark with lust, trained on me as I manoeuvre away from the wall and out of his grasp while straightening my shirt. His mouth is open a little and he reaches for me as I grab my bag off the floor, swing it over my shoulder and stalk back towards the staircase to the Great Hall.

I glance back over my shoulder and see him watching the swing of my hips as I walk, eyes fixed on me. It appears he's lost the ability to move his legs.

"Good luck in the match tomorrow Malfoy," I grin cheekily, leaving him looking completely dumfounded outside the kitchens. I look long enough to see him blink a few times as if he can't quite fathom what's just happened. I hear a very muffled response as I see him lean against the wall for support. His head leant on the cold stone brick.

"Weasley…. I better see you at our after party." Is all I manage to hear as I ascend the stairs to the floor above.

I have to resist the urge to shudder as I reach the entrance hall. Or even do a little fist pump in the air or _even_ skip away in this euphoria I'm feeling right now. I feel flushed but ecstatic and have to resist the urge to run back down the stairs leaping into his arms as my legs wrap round his waist…. _no get a grip Weasley. Somehow you managed to play that in a ridiculously nonchalant manner. Don't ruin this mysterious air you've left behind._ A shiver does go down my spine as a cool wind blows through the hallway. In my entire life I never thought I'd snog a guy in a corridor at school and clearly leave him wanting more. Right now I'm both embarrassed and rather pleased with myself. So as it turns out, Malfoy made the move on me. That has to mean he's interested right… well that small burst of self-confidence seems to be fading rather fast.

Somehow I manage to make it to the seventh floor without bumping into a teacher or Mr Norris. I feel like I almost floated down the corridors in a daze. Still seeing the look in his eyes after we'd kissed. I'm just finding it rather difficult to process. Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy. Hogwart's closest thing to an Adonis is apparently wanting my company. I say closest thing, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I guess I've been thinking about it far too long to dismiss it now. I can definitely give whatever just happened a chance to happen again. I mean, currently I'm lent against the wall near an empty picture of the Fat Lady, letting these thoughts wash over me. If I close my eyes I can almost feel his hands on my sides and in my hair and my legs suddenly feel weak. _So much for nonchalance and all that, Weasley._

"Dear, isn't it about time you were in bed?" I crack an eye open and see the Fat Lady has returned. Sighing I stutter the password and the portrait hole swings open, revealing an empty common room with embers burning in the grate. I had no idea just how late it was. As the portrait closes behind me I hear the Fat Lady muse to herself,

"It's been many an age since I was as flushed as that from a passionate embrace." At this jarring reality I rush up to my dormitory, draw the curtains around my four poster and collapse. Fear that anyone might see me looking _flushed from a passionate embrace_ which could prompt awkward questions. I mean really, that's just terrible phrasing.

I just hope it doesn't put him of his game tomorrow.

* * *

 **Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing or giving any time for my mediocre writing! I have so many freaking ideas that if anyone is short of any and has a little more prowess than me with a keyboard then message me! All Scorose as everytime I think of another story, another one sort of branches off from it.  
Anyways, finally a little action! Well a lot of action. I don't plan on dragging this story out. It'll somehow come full circle with a bit more drama to ensue. Probably no more than 10 chapters total. Happy reading.  
Please review even if it's bad. **


	6. Chapter 6

"The next morning I wake up earlier than usual, with a quite apparent fluttering in my stomach. The memories of last night are still fresh but the feeling of that searing heat is fading. I guess I'll have to see how today pans out what with the Quidditch after party (most likely hosted by Slytherin). No matter what happens with Malfoy and I, I don't expect him to stride up to me and start making out with me in front of the older half of the student populous. Also I think I'd quite literally die. The interrogation by the family I'd receive let alone kick start the rumour mill into overdrive. I cross my fingers in my pajama pockets as I head to the bathroom that Malfoy, although I hope he remains interested, actually has a concept of subtlety now something has actually happened between us.

After a rather hot shower that does nothing to relieve that burning between my legs from the previous night I dress quickly and head down to breakfast. It's not until I'm about to enter the Great Hall that I realise what I'm wearing. Dark muggle jeans, trainers, a forest green jumper and winter cloak topped off with my Gryffindor scarf. There is a stark contrast between the green, red and gold which makes me initially think of Christmas, but then realisation hits that people could quite easily jump to conclusions with my choice of attire. Patricia is the first that comes to mind with regard to 'people'. Personally if we weren't in Hogwarts and I knew Malfoy played in green, then I'd keep the jumper to make my intentions to Malfoy so blindingly obvious it's like being swiped at by a Grindelow.

I take a deep breath and enter the Great Hall to find it infact quite empty. The only large group of people is indeed the full Slytherin Quidditch team who are huddled together in the centre of their house table, heads together and only mere mumbling heard from across the quite hall. I try not to think about Malfoy's back facing my direction. _Oh there is probably a scratch or two you left behind from last night, Weasley_. I can't hide a smile at that as I remember the feeling of him between me and the wall and sit down, non-so-subtley facing the group dressed in emerald green.

A ruffled looking Alice enters the hall shortly after me and scurries over when she spots me (my hair isn't exactly the most inconspicuous thing), her black and yellow scarf ruffling in her wake. She sits herself down next to me on the same side and drags the coffee towards her.

"Everything alright?" I ask with a raised eyebrow as I reach for some toast (how the Hogwarts toast remains warm throughout Breakfast I think will be mystery to me forever).

"Gah! They're at it again. Delilah and Aisha. The never ending circle of gossip, argue, fall out, make up. Today was fall out over who should be aloud to come to tonights post-Quidditch party wearing purple. Why the hell does that even matter?!" exclaimed Alice, earning a few looks from the people dotted about alone in the hall.

"It doesn't." I reply flatly.

"Then why the hell do they make it their mission to wake me up nearly every Saturday morning with such drivel?"

"Some girls just want to watch the world burn I guess." I reply, quite clearly sarcastic and not helping.

"You're really not helping," states Alice shaking her head at me. She pours a second cup of coffee and I reach to pour some milk into my tea.

"I really don't envy you Ally, perhaps ask Scarlet if she can switch beds with you? She gets on better with them both on the whole doesn't she?" I try, sounding more sympathetic. I have to share a dorm with Patricia after all.

"Not anymore. She wanted to knuckle down this year, but they always come asking her for help or even sit with her in the library and just chat when she's trying to work. Think she's about as fed up as I am." Alice's shoulders slumped and she pulled a full plate of bacon towards her.

"I don't think comfort eating is the answer," I say, putting a few rashers onto a plate instead and passing over the brown sauce. She looks down at the bacon before covering it with the sauce. She spears a slice onto the end of her fork, "Bacon, you've never done me wrong," before eating the whole slice in one go. I sneak a glance in the direction of the group of Slytherins again to find they've spread out a bit to eat breakfast. I can see Malfoy flicking through a copy of the Daily Prophet with his steaming coffee sat beside him. A hand waves in front of my face.

"So yuhf an' Maylfawy egh!?" asks Alice eyes twinkling and her mouth still full of bacon.

"What do you mean?" I ask, feigning innocence terribly as I feel my cheeks heat up slightly. I fiddle with the silver spoon across the table. Alice swallows.

"You're watching Malfoy. Don't be creepy. Did anything happen during your brewing session last night?" Alice wasn't so subtle about putting brewing session in air inverted commas.

I toyed with the spoon some more. I really don't know if I should tell her. I mean, I love Alice to pieces and I would trust her with anything. But if I tell her, I'm going to have to tell Albus. I feel like I can't really tell one without the other, and although Al and Malfoy seem to have some sort of unvoiced respect for one another I'm not sure if I want to prod the sleeping dragon that is the issue of me "seeing" Malfoy. Also considering it was one make out session (make that heavy make-out session) that I think it's a bit too early to inform Albus of any goings on. As for making out with a guy, I don't think I can't tell my best girlfriend this little factoid.

"Don't you dare squeal."

"When do I ever squeal?!" Alice burst out, quite literally shuffling to the edge of her seat in anticipation.

"I've heard it before."

"Fine, just tell me already! Clearly something is going on otherwise you wouldn't be being this shifty." Thankfully she'd lowered her voice to just above a whisper by this point. I glanced around the room to make sure (somehow) none of my relations had risen yet.

"Well we did finish brewing the potion by the end of the evening...," I trailed off, looking away. It's this point Alice punches me rather hard in the arm.

"Stop stalling. One of your tens of thousands of relations may walk in at any moment and spoil everything."

"Jeez woman, calm down!"

"I told you I'm living vicariously through you; now spill." Alice looked rather put out and chanced a glance at the back of Malfoy's head that was shaking with laughter at something one of his teammates had said. I took a deep breath.

"Well we headed to the kitchens and we ran into Trish and Davies...in a broom cupboard."

"Noooooooo," let out Alice in one long breath.

"Yes. Precisely. So among the expected nasty exchange between Trish and Malfoy she rounded on me essentially implying that even if Malfoy had an interest in me that I'm too brainy, however I'll take that as a compliment, but that I'm also," I look around the room squinting as if searching for the best possible phrasing, "acutely unamourous."

"That ignorant slut." I laughed heartily at this point. I couldn't hide my gratitude towards Alice for supporting me in this very uncharacteristic venture of mine. Lowering my voice even further as the hall started to fill with more students. Most Slytherins slapping their team on the back as they passed.

"Anyway, they left, we managed to give them some well deserved detentions."

"Good on you!" Alice rolled her hand infront of her face inferring, I assume that I should hurry the hell up with my story.

"We grabbed some food from the kitchens and he was apologetic for Trish's behaviour, which to be honest was quite unnecessary. He shouldn't have to answer for her. Then he made a comment about not being emjust/em into blondes. We made a few jokes, my father got mentioned-"

"Are you joking?"

"Nope. He said he'd just run away from him fast." I smiled at the memory.

"And then he made a pass at me." At this Alice did squeal.

"What did I tell you?" I chided looking once again at the blonde head of hair in emerald Quidditch robes but it appeared he had yet to look over here.

"Just some basic chaste kiss, and I was kind of like emwhat the hell/em and he pulled away and was just grinning at me."

"Which is naturally gorgeous."

"And so I did it, I listened to that tiny Alice voice in my head."

"Aww thanks." I rolled my eyes.

"And I grabbed his robes and we ended up making out. But to be honest I think the best part-" at this point Alice began shaking her arm and biting her lower lip staring at the hall entrance which could only mean some blood relative of mine must have come in so I just sped up the story.

"Aafter some heated, well you know I then just gave him one last kiss and strode off as nonchalantly asipossiblycouldandlefthiminthelurch-," I turned in my seat quickly.

"Al!" chanted me and Alice in unison, sharing a rather meaningful look as he sat down opposite us on the bench, annoyingly obscuring my view of the back of Malfoy's head.

"Right, both of you," Al began grabbing a croissant and the butter dish. "I've already taken bets off Lorcan and Lysander. Caught them en route to the Owlery for a Galleon each."

"Al, isn't it usually James that takes these sorts of bets?" Al just shrugged in response.

"I think he's a bit predisposed. Said someone should take the reigns on the betting as most people expect it."

"I guess you've got a point there. Alice?"

"What're the odds Albie?" Alice asking in a singsong voice that earned her a withering look from Al.

"Seeing as usually I'd much rather play than take bets I didn't work out odds for exact scoreline." He took some folded up parchment from the pocket of his robes and passed it along the table and took out a small leather pouch from the other. "As usual it's 3 sickles to bet. We can't be paying out every time according to James." I looked down at the parchment to see a scrawled list of odds and a few names other than the Scamander twins with their monetary bets listed at the bottom.

 _Odds_

 _Ravenclaw win 3-1_

 _Slytherin win 5-1_

 _Lambert catches the snitch 2-1_

"Slytherin really aren't the favourites?" I can't help myself blurting that out. I see Alice give me a side on glance as she kicks me in the shin. Al grabs back the parchment.

"According to James, as a whole Ravenclaw are stronger with Lambert but Malfoy is the better Keeper. Hence the odds the way they are. It's possible that if the Slytherin Chasers are on form Ravenclaw will have their work cut out. As a member of the Gryffindor team, naturally I've been observing in what conditions the other teams have been playing in. It's been rather mixed so far this term, although the winds picking up today so who knows." Albus finished, adding more butter to his croissant.

"You know they're made with basically just butter and flour right?" I ask pointing incredulously at the thick layer of butter he was still applying. Albus nods through a mouthful. Now the Great Hall is positively buzzing with energy, the Ravenclaw team having entered in gradually over the course of breakfast. I'm pretty sure they were even training last night.

"You really are related to James aren't you?" said Alice, "he didn't tell you that little spiel description." Al shrugged and turned to her.

"I'm trying to do best by James; I owed him a favour anyway."

"Fine." Alice clearly taking the bait. "A galleon on Ravenclaw." She reached in her back pocket to pull out a single galleon before tossing it to Al who caught it easily and with the swiftness expected of a seeker. He added the coin to the leather bag.

It was at this moment that the Slytherin team rose from their seats to exit the hall. The supporters adorned with silver and green began cheering and whooping. My eyes flickered to the mop of blonde and our eyes met. His lopsided smile froze at the sight of me, looking me up and down. His eye rested for a moment on my green jumper beneath the red and gold scarf and he grinned wickedly before whooping and hollering with his fellow teammates as they moved out of the hall. I turned to Alice who'd apparently been watching me. She was giving me a smirk that was probably more convincing than most Slytherin's could manage.

"I saw that." she whispered at me. I felt my face heat up but I couldn't help but grin back.

"Saw what?" Asked Al looking back up from his plate at the both of us.

"Nothing Al. I'll make a bet though," I thrust my hands into my pockets and put the coins on the table. I feel my skin heat up and can't quite hide the excitement in my voice. All my thoughts are on dragging Malfoy away from the party to a secluded, dark corridor tonight making me feel a little giddy. "Three galleons on Slytherin to win."

* * *

 **Apologies there isn't much Rose/Scorpius action in here. There will be tonnes in the next one. This little snippet just got away from me a bit and I wanted to add it in for the time being as a shorter chapter. Also a bit of banter between girlfriends is always fun to do. I've definitely had a conversation with a friend of mine very similar to what I've just written here. Unfortunately for me, I was the Alice.**

 **Reviews always welcome. Always.**


	7. Chapter 7

We made our way down to the Quidditch pitch shortly before 11am. The grounds are quite noticably covered in a thin layer of frost that crunches under our footfall. Albus and Alice are bickering over scorelines, fouls and possible injuries while I'm almost gliding towards the pitch on a metaphorical cloud. I wonder if the thought of another potential tryst with Malfoy makes me feel this elated what on earth it's like to actually sample that liquid luck we brewed. The wind seems to pick up, the further from the castle we get; perhaps Albus' prediction wasn't too far off after all.

Climbing the stairs into the stands, Albus spots James and pushes through the crowd to him, insisting he'll find us again before the match kicks-off. When Albus is out of earshot Alice jabs me in the ribs.

"So you and lover boy is _definitely_ a thing then?" She smiles knowingly and I have to resist jabbing her in the eye in retaliation.

"Keep your voice down for Circe's sake. It was one look after our little...whatever it was last night." As much as I'm playing this through in my head to my hearts content, I also don't want to speak out loud about it and jinx any chance of it ever happening again. Curse you brain for your fickle ways! _Stop sounding so mental in your head Weasley; get a grip._

We pick a spot somewhere in the middle of the pitch, so we have a good view of both sets of hoops and are high enough up to see all the action. The wind has picked up even more and Alice's hair wips my face as she leans in to avoid shouting over the howling wind.

"I'd give yourself some more credit Rose. It's not everyday a guys looks at you that way. Ok that came out wrong." I raise an eyebrow in amusement. "What I mean is, don't put down the situation. That look I just observed basically said 'I'd be happy to have some more of that please'." I look at her dumbfounded and we laugh.

"Well I hope you're right. I'll bring my things to the Hufflepuff common room and get ready with you tonight. I'll probably be majorly anxious about the situation by then. This is after I go finish my Tranfiguration essay in the library this afternoon. Before you get any ideas."

"Yes! Our Rosie finally taking the 'work hard, _play hard_ ' attitude seriously."

"Alright, you can shut up now." I say, seeing Al making his way back towards us past a rather disgruntled group of third years.

"I refused to take their bets," said Al after seeing my questioning look. "Too young in my opinion. James gave me some grief but it's all sorted now. You guys know who's taken over as commentator this year?"

"No idea actually," said Alice standing on tip toes trying to get a view of the commentary box. As if to answer our question a voice spoke over the blustering weather and was met with a noticeable hush from the crowd around us.

"Good mornin' folks. Dylan O'Neill here to commentate the first match of the season; Ravenclaw vs Slytherin!" This announcement was met with much cheering from the crowd and some whooping from Albus and Alice among others around us.

"Here comes the Slytherin team-" He reeled off the players names, Malfoy's among them as they strode out into the middle of the pitch. "and the Ravenclaw team-" I can just about make out which players are which on both teams as small colourful dots on the muddy pitch, my eyes lingering on Malfoy for longer than anyone else. We watch the captains shake hands and hear the distant sounding whistle.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" Both teams are air born in the blink of an eye and already in position. My eyes are almost blurred by the speed which the Slytherin team is passing the Quaffle and I'm not surprised that O'Neill as a rookie to his new role is struggling slightly.

"And it's Flint with an under pass to Archer to ducks behind, wait Ravenclaw have possession, no Slytherin win it back-,"

"Poor guy, first time commentating and he up against almost new racing broom speeds. He needs a pair of omnioculars really," mutters Albus to my left hand side.

Unfortunately O'Neill's commentary doesn't improve as the match goes on but one thing that is becoming startlingly obvious is just how strong a team Slytherin appear to be this year. They've been doing formation plays, their beaters have successfully stopped half a dozen goals, forcing almost twice as many drops and naturally I saved the best news for last. Malfoy has been all over those hoops and only let in a single goal. I really have tried to pay attention to the whole match but it hasn't been all that easy with inaccurate and barely audible commentary over the swirling wind. The scores are currently Ravenclaw 10 and Slytherin 160 and to be honest, watching this game has really got me wanting to head out flying again.

At this particular moment of my internal realisation a few things happen in quick succession. One of the Ravenclaw Chasers, quaffle in arms (I can't remember his name, although it turns out neither can O'Neill) started hurtling towards Malfoy who's taken a few mild bludgers to his arms over the duration of the match, and looks slightly frazzled. It's at this moment that Alice yells and points towards Lambert whose gaze has fallen from his own chaser to take a nose dive following a small golden ball near the outer edge of our side of the pitch. Clearly keeping his faith that his own teammate will score past a flagging Malfoy and arguably right to believe that Baines, the Slytherin Seeker won't catch up with him. Alice, Albus and I all lean forwards to watch Lambert hurtle out of view at the base of the stands, as Malfoy manages to kick the quaffle aimed at the top left hoop with the tip of his toe away from it's course and Lambert pulls up from his dive back into view with the snitch wings visibly fluttering in his hands. Looking over at his sapphire clothed teammate his shoulders slump and an eruption from everyone dressed in green in the stands is somehow heard over the howling wind. I crack a grin and clap along with the rest of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor house. I turn to Albus waggling my eyebrows and holding out my hands as he groans.

"Damn, I really thought Ravenclaw had that one." He said fishing in his pockets for the small leather bag. I look back at the pitch to see the Slytherin team back on the ground clasping hands and patting each other on the back. After a few moments two team members hoist Malfoy up onto their shoulders and carry him out of the stands, their shouts of joy masked my a rumble of thunder from above us.

XXX

It's been a while since I've attended a Hogwarts party. And never have I been invited, or informed of the password to get into the Slytherin common room to attend one. Most Quidditch celebration parties are held in the winners common room, I'm convinced the Professors can't be ignorant of the parties that become ever more debaucherous as the evenings wear on. I've overheard many times from Patricia in the past that Slytherin parties are the ones you have to attend while you're at Hogwarts. I assume that even though many families who are still present in Slytherin, may have been devalued after the most recent wizarding war their assets still allow their children to afford to arrange more opulent parties than the others houses. Thankfully, in Gryffindor, we have James Potter who is on first name terms with the daughter of Madam Rosmerta who can often barter for a half dozen barrels of butterbeer and probably too much Firewhiskey for a small Quidditch celebration.

Alice and I finally arrive outside the Slytherin common room, where all I can hear is a distant dripping. If there is indeed a party behind the stone brick you would never have guessed it. Another reason why the dungeons down here are so damn unappealing is the idea that the walls could cave in at any minute and drown us in ice cold water from the lake; although a rather dramatic event I have thought about that a few times during dull theoretical potions lessons. I draw my cardigan across my chest. I chose to dress, not as my mother would probably do, but also not like those...well, I don't like to use the term _sluts_ but sometimes it's the only fitting description. I've got on my dragon-hide boots, thick socks on top of black tights, shorts and a tshirt with cut off sleeves sporting my favourite band; _The Cornish Pixies_. Alice said I looked like one of those muggle "rock chicks" but hot all the same. I'd rolled my eyes and thanked her, refusing to agree but secretly hoping it would be enough and not create any unwanted attention. I tried to dress up for a party once and got aggressively told that a bookworm shouldn't bother to dress up. This was back in fourth year and incredibly upsetting at the time, but I'm very grateful this didn't alter how I presented myself in the future. Alice has a little more self confidence than me and went for a mid-length swing-style dress that accentuates her curves. Sometimes I wonder why the hell this girl doesn't have a fella hanging off her at all times, but Alice is far too much one of the guys and I think even as a Hufflepuff she can intimidate a lot of the boys at this school.

"You ready lass?" Asks Alice ginning at me. I'm pretty sure I'm having heart palpitations right about now.

"Don't look so bloody worried. I told you, that look he gave you this morning _meant something_." She pats me on the back encouragingly.

"Like seriously Rose. You look about five minutes away from being sick on your own shoes. Smile. It's a party. I knew we should have had a little tipple in my room..." I finally crack a grin.

"Thanks Alice. I really owe you. Like all the time. I'm sorry I was so caught up with things at the start of the year." I finally manage. I feel silly doing this now, but I feel compelled to tell her this. Her loyalty is something I love most about her. She's a good egg.

"You're such a good egg." I find myself saying out loud. Alice barks a laugh in response.

"Come on girlie. He's one hot bloke and it'll all work out tonight. Just maybe don't make out in the centre of the room in front of your cousins."

"Thanks for that." I manage to grin now. One last glance over my shoulder as Alice speaks the password to the blank stone wall.

" _Sanguis dragonis_."

We hurry through the gap that appears in the rock quickly to be met with loud, but thankfully not ear-splitting music coming from an enchanted muggle hifi system. Funnily enough it looks identical to the one from my Granger Grandparents front room. Their common room looks almost exactly how my father has described it to me in stories from his, mum and my uncles past, however for the sake of a party it's quite obvious the room has been rearranged. Green, glowing lamps are littered across small tables along the edges of the wall with high backed arm chairs covered in dark green leather joining them. The ceiling hosts dozens of floating candles, their flames almost sparkling bronze in homage to their competitors. I get this warm feeling inside with the consciousness of how things have changed so much since my parents days. There are plenty of people here already. Many are dancing with bottles of butterbeer in their hands, while other small groups are stood chatting on the edge of the giant rug that covers the dancefloor. I see no blond heads among the thong of people and my heart sinks a little.

"Drink?" Asks Alice from my side and I nod before we make our way over to a table covered in drinks. The table overlooks glass windows that would normally show the depths of the lake in daylight but are darkest black now. I lean in and put my eye close to the glass and see (if it's possible) an even darker outline of some large creature in the depths. I pull back sharply in shock and move away from the glass.

A large group of people suddenly stumble through the same stone me and Alice came in from. It's quite apparent that this group is mostly Ravenclaws who've clearly had a drink or two already (perhaps to drown their sorrows). I see Lambert already lent on one of his chasers with a small smile on his face.

"Alright Slytherins!" he yells to the room at large. "Let's get drunk!" and he stumbles over to the hifi and cranks up the volume. I laugh, disbelieving at the exceptional sportsmanship and have Alice beside me look on equally as shocked by the events. A few people cheer in agreement and it's almost like a switch was flicked. It suddenly feels twice as warm in the room and there seems like three times as many bodies, laugh joking and dancing to the bass-heavy music.

Shortly afterwards a small group of Gryfinddors fall through the stone entrance headed by my rowdy cousin James. I'm actually surprised he's invited as he usually doesn't have great things to say about the Slytherins. Probably the only one in our family who can't just let the past stay that way. He notices me and Alice instantly (again, most probably due to my flaming red hair) and makes a beeline through the busy room. Without even a hello he strikes up conversation with me.

"Rosie dearest. Pass us a butterbeer would you?" I scowl at him as I thrust a butterbeer into his outstretched hand. "It's been a good while since I've managed to get an invite to a Slytherin party." He muses taking a sip.

"Perhaps that's due to you're rather, impolite attitude towards those in Slytherin House. Have you ever considered that James?" I ask, trying to keep my tone measured, after all the main reason I'm here tonight is to seek out a certain slytherin, who by the way I've still not managed to spot. And the common room isn't huge or anything.

"It's all in jest Rose. They know that, I know that. It's all just good banter eh?" He asks and I inwardly cringe.

"Please don't use that word. It makes you seem like a complete ignoramus." I don't hold back now, James always needs reeling in a bit back towards reality.

"Also there is a rather pretty lass I've wanted to find since speaking to her last week and word has it she was also invited tonight." He ignores my suggestion and Alice finally cuts in looking at him incredulously.

"Potter, you seriously need to get a grip." She scoffs, finishing her first butterbeer. I raise a questioning eyebrow but she doesn't respond.

"Ally, no need to act jealous or anything."

"You're a pig, James."

"Why thank you. I try my best. Watch out when they're drunk though, they are cunning those Slytherins." Me and Alice are about to protest when he clearly spots the girls he's trying to find as a broad grin spreads across his face and he turns and walks directly away.

"When will James grow up do you think?" Alice muses beside me.

"Not sure. I think it's some eldest child complex. I mean, we might be the children of War Heroes but he's Harry Potter's first son right? He was bound to get an ego too big to fit through the oak front doors of the castle at some point during his time here."

"Mmmmh," Alice just nods and takes another drink from the table. I have a look myself over the tables contents and finally find some elderflower wine wedged between some Hog's Head Mead. "Like seriously. Stop looking so worried." She finally said after scanning the room for a few moments. I don't respond but I know exactly what she's referring to. That huge elephant in the room that only we can see.

"He could be anywhere. Finishing homework, prefect duties, the kitchens for supplies, I really hope it's the latter as this party is ridiculously thin on the ground when it comes to snacks." I nod in agreement but don't speak at first. A few hundred ideas are racing through my head right now, the worst probably being a mental image of Malfoy trapped under a fallen bookshelf in the library unable to reach his wand and Madam Pince who is basically deaf now can't hear his calls for help.

"Aye I know," I say after a few other even more ridiculous ideas come to mind.

"Let's go have a dance."

"Alright then."

We must dance for over an hour, the room gaining people every so often. I am certain I've still not seen Malfoy around at all; anywhere. The rest of the Slytherin team have been joyously singing whichever tune comes on the hifi with gusto. Everyone seems in high spirits, even the Ravenclaws. There is a horrible moment where I lock eyes with Patricia who I didn't see come in the door but she merely scowls and walks to the other side of the room. What I think is more odd is that she appears to be alone tonight. She's brought the other Gryffindor sixth year girls with her so she clearly has at least a few people hanging off her every word tonight. I suddenly hear a loud cheer in the direction of the common room entrance again but I'm too busy observing Patricia at this moment to check who it is. She doesn't quite look as well put together as usual. She looks a little rough around the edges which is highly irregular with regard to her appearance. Her and the other girls look quite content at a table chatting between themselves though. One of them puts her arm around her suddenly and I'm forced to admit that I feel a sense of pity deep in my gut. I did wonder why she wasn't here with Davies. This action might be a bit implicit for me to garner that conclusion, but I can see her shoulders shaking a little now too. I have to tear my eyes away at this moment. She isn't really a friend of mine and therefore it really isn't any of my business. I can be reasonable. I claim that I don't like people knowing all the sordid details of my life so why should I pry into others? A rather hushed deep voice breaks through my thoughts.

"Hullo Alice. Rose." It's one of the Ravenclaw chasers if I am recognising him correctly. He's got dark hair and the eyes to match and his voice does sound rather heavenly I have to admit. He nods to me and addresses Alice again.

"You fancy having a dance with me?" He asks, no hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Me?" states Alice rather dumbly pointed at herself.

"Yeah." She looks him up and down before turning to me. "You mind Rose?"

"Not at all!" I push her closer towards him. "You guys have fun now won't you." Alice turns back to him and I just about hear her say over the music. "Alright then boy-o, let's see your moves." I make my way back to the drinks table grinning to myself. I lean against it for support supping on my drink just watching the students dance around and around the room to the music. I can see someone approaching in my periphery to the drinks table and think nothing of it until they lean a little too close beside me and I hear that gruff voice I've been wanting to hear again all day.

"Glad you made it Weasley." I don't turn around to face him but my heart is immediate threatening to burst though my rib cage. I hide my grin, straining to remain as nonchalant as possible.

"Congratulations are in order at they not Malfoy? That was quite a performance today." I don't even know why I'm playing this cool. There is a definite chance that Malfoy may not like the "playing hard to get" routine that for some reason I've decided to go with.

"Thanks." He leans to take a drink from behind me and grazes my back as he does so. I'm hyper aware of his presence lent against the table only a tangible distance from me. I can feel myself flush as I remember thoughts of the previous night. "It's a shame I spent the rest of the day finishing that damn Transfiguration essay, rather than starting this little celebration early." I just nod and scan the crowd again.

"How'd you find the essay?" I ask innocently, my academic curiosity getting the better of me.

"Struggled with the conclusion, I much prefer the practical side of transfiguration," he pauses and takes a short breath before muttering, "However, It's not quite as enthralling as potions." I nod and can't quite hide the smile forming on my lips. My heart is still racing. I see Alice has left her dance partner in favour of talking fervently to Albus who must have appeared since I left as I'd not seen him at all since lunchtime. Satisfied that I won't be missed by anyone here I feel I can indulge myself. I finally look up at Malfoy who it appears has been watching me already. His blond hair looks deliciously tousled and his grin is causing crinkles near his eyes. He's got a small glass in his hand filled with amber liquid and a single cube of ice. Annoyingly this make him look even more sophisticated than usual, this on top of this pale blue button down shirt makes me squirm a little at my choice of attire. _Maybe you should have made a little more effort Weasley._ Much to my internal delight though, he rakes his eyes over me unabashed by this overtly explicit gesture.

"Loving the shoes Weasley," he comments tilting his glass to me before turning his attention to the room and glancing over to his teammates.

"Cheers. That really was a damn good save at the end of the match though." I change the subject back to Quidditch as I'd rather not talk about dragon-hide boots with Scorpius Malfoy.

"Not sure if it was really worth it, I'm not sure if I'll lose that toe nail."

"Eugh. That really is unfortunate." I muse, reaching for the bottle of elderflower wine to top up my drink.

"Allow me." Says Malfoy grasping the bottle and filling my glass to the brim.

"Not trying to get me drunk are you Malfoy?" I ask coyly, eyeing my dangerously full glass. He places the bottle down on the table behind us before moving his face a lot closer to mine.

"I found it very difficult to concentrate in todays match Weasley. If I wasn't so adept at Keeping, Slytherin certainly wouldn't be celebrating. You and I in that corridor last night was hard to not think about, especially with you stood in the crowd." He turned and looked at the room, as I did and found Patricia watching us with her group of girls surrounding her forgotten. She was looking curiously between us both her head tilted to one side. Malfoy appeared to have also seen this and turning back to me his eyes dark, "Would it be too presumptuous to ask if you'd want to maybe take a walk somewhere quiet? Perhaps away from anyone that was not involved in the events I'm referring too."

"Oh you want to go see the House Elves!" I say unable to stop myself and see a flash cross his face before he speaks again.

"No Weasley." He speaks low and firm that feels like it reverberates through my chest. "I'd like it if we left and I could get better acquainted with the same charming red head from last night." His voice is serious and I can't help but grin up at him.

"All you had to do was ask Malfoy." I give him one more glance and throw in a wink for good measure to see him smirk in response. I see him drain his glass and grab a bottle from the table as he follows me with an innocent distance between us. I clamber through the stone exit into the silent corridor and walk a few paces, the corridor is freezing compared to the packed and rowdy common room. I can see my breath rise in front of me. I hear the din and feel a rush of warmth as Malfoy steps out into the corridor in front of me, a bottle of what looks like Firewhiskey in his hand and the biggest grin on his face. He doesn't even wait until the stone moves back into place before his lips are finally on mine again and his arms wrapped around me. It's at this moment that I thank Merlin for everything he's ever done for me as our tongues begin to dance. I can feel the cold glass through my top, pressed into my lower back. His hands are running through my hair with a lot more ease than the previous night. I bite his lower lip again which elicits a growl from the back of his throat again. He pulls back his hand balling into a fist in my hair and tugging gently. I resist the urge to moan gently and instead bite down on my own bottom lip, my breath shaking.

"Weasley," he finally growls back, his eyes alight with fire. "I don't think it's safe for you to do that to me in a corridor. I cannot be held responsible for my actions." I'm pretty sure even in this light he'll be able to see the deep blush that reaches the roots of my hair when he says this. "I'd much prefer if we had a little more privacy than a dungeon corridor." It's at this moment where my heart stops a little. As much as I am over the moon that Malfoy wants to fool around with me, I would rather not just jump straight into bed with him. I really do hope this isn't what he was referring to. Especially with the knowledge that it was literally only weeks ago he was seeing Patricia. He must have noticed my smile falter as he moved away a little further.

"Sorry Weasley," he said earnestly, "I mean it would just be nice to have some more privacy without the fear of someone finding us. I think we're both aware of the waves this may cause if word gets out that Scorpius Malfoy is dragging Rose Weasley off the straight and narrow." He waggles his eyebrows which I realise must be a reflex and not intentional as now he really does look abashed at what he just said.

"I get it Malfoy." I admit, "I completely agree with you there." I smirk, "but do recall I never once so much as whimpered a complaint."

"Whimpered..." Malfoy breathes and I see his eyes darken with lust again and my stomach flips. Obviously I chose some rather implicit words there with every intention that at some point we will definitely make the beast with two backs as it were. I'm not saying I don't want a good fooling around session with his man with the most gorgeous grin I've ever seen right this instant though. I toy with the top few buttons of his shirt pulling him back towards me as I have an unusual and yet what I would like to call _inspired_ epiphany. "I think I have just the place. Can I have a drink?" He nods, grinning his toothy grin and hands me the bottle. I take a good swig, the liquid burning my throat and giving me goosebumps. I pull his lips down to mine and feel the searing heat of our bodies together once more.

"C'mon Malfoy." And we grin stupidly at each other as I take his hand and run down the dungeon corridor and up the stairs to the entrance hall, no thought for potential teachers roaming the corridors. No thought for the monstrous thuds my boots make as they make contact with the stone floor. We tear up the stairs in the entrance and up to the first floor. In a hidden passage leading to the fifth floor he clearly simply can't resist me as he drags me to him and pushes me against the wall again crushing my lips with his. I melted into him all to easily under the influence of a few elderflower wines.

"Where are you taking me Weasley?" He gasps when we split, in need of air.

"Ah you'll see Malfoy, but I assure you you won't be disappointed." The look he's giving me would make any girl weak at the knees. Honestly. It's like I'm all he can see in the world right now and all he's thinking about. I realise then that it appears I had nothing to worry about.

* * *

 **Well there you go. I wonder where they're headed? I was tempted to leave it here but there needs to be a few bumps in the road before it seems like a happy ending. Gotta have a bit of drama eh?  
** **I do love feedback and really appreciate it. No matter how short, long or in the middle.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

It's probably too late now. We're here. Stood outside the door, and I'm regretting this brash and foolhardy decision. No matter how inspired I felt down in that dungeon corridor after Malfoy's mouth has been moulded to mine again; this is probably a bad decision. How could I think it was a good idea in that moment? I'd seriously thought it was a good way to warm up and then I thought oh maybe a swim together would be fun! _Jesus Weasley…what's he going to think eh?_ I considered this, but realised that I didn't really want to go back on this now and look fickle or even worse like a tease. That's one thing I know I'm certainly not. And I'm very aware that there is another voice positively screaming at the back of my mind, telling me to just go for it. It sounds an awful lot like a muffled Alice if you must know. I take another swig of the Firewhiskey bottle in my slightly shaking hand. I try to hide this from Malfoy but it appears his intention, as usual, is to just catch my eye.

"Weasley. What're we doing outside the Prefect's bathroom? I thought you were taking us to the Room of Requirement?" I stare at him for a moment and take another swig; the liquid burning my throat but instead of warming me up this time it merely gives me further shivers. I try desperately hard not to take my eyes off of him. Just in case I blink and he disappears like a mirage. A delicious mirage, no less.

"I thought we could go for a swim," I answer honestly, shrugging. "It seemed like a good idea when we were down in the dungeons." His look turns from questioning to incredulous in the blink of an eye. No grin plastered across that pretty face. I gulp nervously. _Maybe this was a little too "out there" as ideas go after all Weasley._

"I just thought it would be fun…" I trail off.

"You're serious?" he finally managed.

"Yeah. I mean initially I thought it'd be a good way to warm up, and swimming is always fun and I've never tried a good swim after a few drinks and that's probably why I thought about it. It could be fun-"

"You're mental."

"-thank you. To be honest with you. I'm pretty sure every prefect including the Head Boy and Girl were already at the party when we left so I highly doubt we'd be disturbed by anyone. The water smells so heavenly as well and-"

"This is mental."

"-sometimes when it smells like lavender-" I plough on barely even registering his comments, jabbering in nervous bursts of tipsy giddiness and I'm running out of air quite rapidly, "- bit different y'know." I finish before taking a huge breath in and another small swig; I'd rather not drunkenly pass out and drown in the prefect's bathroom if I'm honest with you. I'd have to be friends with Myrtle and she already grinds on me a bit when you're trying to go and she just keeps god damn singing and –

"What're we waiting for?" asks Malfoy, His Toothiness at your service. I can feel my eyes bulge, my drunken body exaggerating the action for good measure.

"Excellent. Glad you didn't need convincing." I hear myself say, this over confident version of myself is going to get me into trouble I just know it. And it appears that Firewhiskey really does loosen my tongue. This is probably the most drunk I've ever been while at Hogwarts. There is a part of me that knows this is not a very sensible adventure to part-take in, although it is a lot safer than taking a romantic stroll in the Forbidden Forrest. _What's the worst that can happen?_ I quell that particular thought as I speak to the door.

"Raspberry Lemonade."

I'll never get used to this room. The first time I came in here I was stunned by the deep set pool into the stonework and the hundreds of golden taps along it's edges. I thought my parents had been having me on. Essentially a swimming pool masquerading as a bathtub inside the castle, but then there is a room that is hidden to those unless you require it. So I guess this could be considered mundane by comparison. I have great respect for the Founders when I over think the intricacies of the castle.

The only thing I don't like in this room are the stain glass windows which look much more like the merpeople from my textbooks at night, rather than beautiful sirens during the day. It gives an eerie feel to the room when I'm in here alone. Somehow I've never bumped into anyone else in here. I'm not entirely convinced it will let Malfoy follow me over the threshold and that the room will have a similar defence mechanism to that of the Gryffindor girls dormitory stairs. Oddly enough it does allow him to follow me. Considering just how easy it would have been for people in the past to do just what we're doing right now, it seems remarkable that this isn't common knowledge between the students; it'd be a hell of a place to hold a party. How has no one ever thought about this before? It seems rather bizarre. At some point as we've walked in the room, we've both kicked off our shoes and removed our socks, leaving a trail of clothing items in our wake.

"I'm surprised it let us both in at the same time." Malfoy states, speaking as if he's just read my mind. He pulls my body flush against him and whispers in my ear, "however you came up with this idea; I'm a huge fan." I twist in his arms so I'm looking up at him with a look that is as sultry as possible and pull away.

"I'm full of ingenious ideas." I turn on the first tap and pale yellow water gushes from the opening, sending hot steam towards the ceiling. I conceal my excitement as I turn on another tap and giant purple bubbles form at the taps mouth before floating onto the water's surface. Malfoy is walking around the opposite edge of the bath at this point turning on taps at random; providing an assortment of coloured water to the already half full tub. We meet on the other side, repeating our steps to turn off those running so the pool doesn't overflow. Finally it's full and we're stood facing each other again.

"What happens if we get caught Weasley?" he asks me from across the water. His eyes serious for the first time since our lips locked again tonight. I have to repress the urge to call him a scaredy cat and instead press the now half full bottle of Firewhiskey to his chest.

"I guess it's a risk we'll both have to take." I say gazing down at the water. I remove my shorts and tights to reveal some plain violet pants (I thank all of the wizarding world at this point that they aren't white) followed by my shirt. This leaves me feeling rather warm in the steamy room even though I'm only wearing a makeshift bikini ensemble with a black bra as the top piece. I chance a glance in Malfoy's direction, very aware that I was not at all elegant at removing my clothes in my drunken haste to get in the water. He is now struggling to remove his jeans; clearly the Firewhiskey is affecting him almost as it is me. This makes me feel a little surer of the situation. Finally he's down to just some black boxers and he's stood between me and the tub. A genius idea occurs to me as I walk up to him and plant a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. I pull away grinning to find him smirking down at me in my bare minimals.

"Don't smirk at me like that Malfoy. It doesn't suit you." I say echoing his words from a conversation that now seems a hundred years ago now.

"What're you going to do about it Weasley?" He asks the smirk growing. And then I do it. I give his chest a shove and he falls backwards. I see said smirk vanish in the mere second before he disappears beneath the water sending bubbles and suds cascading over the edges. And I laugh. It's a drunken cackle if ever I've heard one and it bounces off the bathroom walls, ringing in my ears. Malfoy's sopping wet head appears in the water and he splutters the suds from his mouth.

"Right Weasley," he growls at me, with a face that I'm assuming he thinks looks furious. And I just laugh harder, bending over double almost wheezing at the sight of Scorpius Malfoy push his blond hair out of his eyes and swim back towards me. I take a breath, and hear Alice's voice in my head; _attagirl_. As Malfoy sweeps for my legs I jump over his mostly submerged body, pulling my legs up to my chest forming a human shaped ball and bomb into the pool next to him. My head is quite literally, also swimming. I feel dizzy and giddy and elated. The water is hot on my skin, my eyes are squeezed shut and I kick up to crack the surface of the water, gasping for breath between peels of laughter.

"I'll get you for that." I hear from behind me and I swim to the other side of the pool with Malfoy chasing me as quickly as I can to find he's pinned me to the side of the pool his eyes light with mischief, his legs gently kicking beneath the surface to keep him afloat. I gulp audibly, again embarrassing myself as he grins and lunges himself at my neck where he nips and sucks just below my ear and I can't help elicit a moan. I feel him smile against my neck and place kisses along my jaw before capturing my lips again. I have to tell you, if you couldn't already tell; Scorpius Malfoy is an incredible kisser. Not that I'd ever tell him that. Well, I might. One day. Not right now.

One of his arms wraps around my waist pulling our bodies together beneath the water and if it's possible his body is warmer than the water itself. I know I must look flushed and oh so attractive with my hair plastered to my skull but I'm not focused on that. I'm more impressed to see that Malfoy's cheeks are flushed a rather dark pink that's got to be from a combination of what he's just been doing to my mouth and the heat of the water. It makes him look even more irresistible; I can't stop my body any more at this point and I wrap my legs around him. I crush our lips together and wind my arms around him as I feel his arm holding onto the side of the pool tense to keep us from sinking. I pull away and know full well that the exhilaration and passion etched on his face is mirrored on mine.

"Weasley. Where have you been hiding?" he asks, and I look away embarrassed but unable to hide the huge smile on my face. "I mean seriously. You're fucking stunning and, like you said; full of ingenious ideas." I return my gaze to him, to see he's positively beaming at me and he gives me a brief and intense kiss. It's right at this moment that I've decided I'd die happy. It's possibly the most genuinely wonderful thing a bloke has ever said to me.

"I think we have our parents to thank for the fact our paths might not have crossed any sooner. If it's any consolation I never thought you were bad to look at." I say the words before I can stop myself and I groan again at how my mouth clearly has a mind of it's own tonight. But Malfoy, right on cue, just laughs good naturedly and cups my face with his hand.

"I'm deadly serious Weasley. The other girls I've seen while here at Hogwarts don't hold a thousand candles to you."

"Where are you getting these lines Malfoy?" he's still stroking my cheek his eyes intently roaming my face and my heart is thundering in my chest again. I can feel it heaving beneath the now cooling water.

"I've got about as many as you've got freckles on your nose." And with that he kicks off from the wall of the pool tugging me under the water with him. I just about manage to gasp in a breath. Before I can attempt to even open my eyes under the shimmering water he's kissing me ferociously his hands running through my hair slowly beneath the water. I've never experienced anything like this. It's positively rapturous. If I'd known at the start of the year I would be doing this with Scorpius Malfoy in the prefect's bathroom I'd have called you as mad as a banshee and a fucking liar.

When we finally surface, we're both grinning at each other. Something that I am already far to accustomed to. "We aren't our parents of course." I begin, knowing I've started this now. I'm in too deep and it's about to get a bit more serious. The sensible Granger part of my brain is prodding me to shut up, unless that's a headache coming on. _Weasley, don't do it._

"No. Although I've been told many times how much I resemble my father," he states this with neither venom nor pride. I make a mental note of this.

"Resemblance doesn't mean duplicate." We're both treading water now in the centre of the pool, I can hear rain crashing against the windows but I avoid looking at the stained glass. He raises an eyebrow at me questioningly.

"I mean, perhaps we should stop with the surnames. After all they don't seem relevant anymore." I mutter the last sentence, aware that this sentence is definitely suggesting that I'd like to see how far this swim could go and just how serious the _swimming_ might get in the future. He's breathing quite hard and I realise I've no idea how long it's been since we left the party. I bite my lip; nervous for his response.

"Don't bite that lip of yours or I'll just have to eat you up entirely." Instead of swimming towards me after stating this though, he suddenly tears his eyes away and heads to the opposite end of the pool where he gets out of the water (annoyingly gracefully) and creeps towards the exit. I can feel the disappointment and the water suddenly feels cold without him sharing it with me. I'm baffled at this point. I have no idea what he's doing.

And then I hear it. A gentle meow. My heart sinks. Instinctively I follow his lead and swim to the edge of the pool and get out.

"That's definitely Mrs Norris." I hear him say as I grab my wand from my pile of clothes and point it to roughly where the plug was and hear the gurgling sound of water flushing through the drain. I then point it to my own body and mutter, " _Exaresco_." I notice Malfoy do the same. I feel the warm water evapourate off my skin leaving me cold with goosebumps. My heart is still thudding, although now it's due to the fear of being caught with Malfoy in the Prefect's bathroom, beyond question; now out of hours. We're tugging on our clothes much quicker than we removed them. I step into my boots and stuff my socks into my short pockets. The meowing is definitely getting louder. _Don't you feel stupid for choosing all the perfumed taps now; she'll be able to smell you at least two floors away._ Thanks inner thoughts – you're a great bloody help. I grab the bottle of Firewhiskey from the edge of the now empty pool, attempting to leave no evidence that we were here and feel Malfoy's calloused hand grab onto mine.

"We need to scarper Weasley," he's pulling me towards the door as I sweep my wand once more in the direction of the pool to remove the suds still covering the bottom. As little evidence as possible remember. I've never been this scared of running into Filch. We leave the prefect bathroom and draw the door closed as quickly as possible before sharing what I can only describe as a rather desperate look at one another as a voice cuts through the wind whistling through the freezing corridor.

"Anyone around my sweet?" came the voice of Argus Filch. Without even thinking we both break into a run in the opposite direction to said voice. I barely pay mind to the fact that Malfoy is climbing, like me, up to the seventh floor when his common room is floors below. His hand is still in mine and we're sprinting, full pelt with wet hair flying behind us. Thankfully we don't hear a peep from any other creature en route up to Gryffindor tower. We stop in front of the Fat Lady's empty painting breathing hard. I squeeze his hand lightly. He responds by grinning tiredly down at me, dark circles under his eyes that certainly weren't there when we first stepped foot in the brightly lit bathroom. I return it, standing on tiptoe and kissing him gently. When I pull away his voice is gruff which only stresses his obvious tiredness.

"Well, you're certainly living up to your flavour _butterscotch_."

"Careful Malfoy; you might ruin an exceptionally pleasant evening." My eyes narrow, but my mouth twitches up in a small smile.

"What happened to dropping the surnames?" he asks sounding slightly affronted.

"I, well –" I begin, but he cuts me off closing the small gap between us.

"It _was_ an exceptionally pleasant night, Rose. I do hope they didn't miss us too much at the party." He just made my name sound sexy. I feel a warmth wash over me through to my very core. _Oh say it again toothy one._

"Perhaps we could reconvene for Monday patrols?"

"It's our duty isn't it? Besides, somehow we got away from Filch unscathed. We deserve an evening where the end isn't rudely interrupted." He dips his head down capturing my lips for the umpteenth time this evening and my stomach clenches with yearning. It's at this precise second that the empty portrait of the Fat Lady swings open. Malfoy and I leap a few feet apart as if struck by a bolt of lightning.

I feel my jaw hit the floor like a lead weight as Patricia steps out of the hole wrapped in a dark cloak and matching slippers. Of all the people in all of Gryffindor tower, of course it had to be her. Merlin only knows where she's off to and that she couldn't wait another ten minutes before doing it. It seems to take her a second to process what she's seeing. Our flushed faces, wet hair, swollen lips and to top it off the party attire we're both still wearing.

"Oh my…" she mutters, a smile curving across her mouth transforming into an impressive sneer as the pieces seem to fall into place.

* * *

 **Well I tried my hand at some fluff and I don't think it was terrible.  
** **I have a lot of content planned for the next chapter so I wanted to get this out as soon as my spindly fingers could type it. I hope it didn't let you all down (something that I'm terrified of doing).  
** **Seriously though, a massive thank you to all the follows and favourites and especially those folks kind enough to review. I never thought this many people would be interested in reading my own plot bunny. Otherwise happy reading. If you don't review; my father will hear about this. *cackles*  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer - JKR owns the universe I speak of. I just like to dance merrily in it.**

* * *

It's quite rare that I'm lost for words. With an extended family as big as mine you learn to have a retort for everything. Whether it be to stop Grandma Weasley from making you eat another helping of dessert or to defend yourself in an argument with half a dozen other cousins. In short, it was quite obvious that I at least had been caught red-handed; my silence is quite a clear admission of guilt. Something Patricia appears to have worked out. The knowing smirk she's giving us is unnerving.

I can't bring myself to look at Malfoy. In the few moments that had passed since we'd been stumbled upon, I don't think I'd even heard him breathe. I'm aware that my mouth is still hanging open so close it quickly, attempting to gain some composure. I honestly don't know what to say in this situation. It would be pathetic and patronising to even consider using the phrase "It's not what it looks like". What is not helping the situation is just the scale of how smug Patricia's face is. I'm trying to focus on not just slapping it right off her face. I can feel my nails digging into my fists hanging by my sides. I'm already unnecessarily angry at Patricia for ruining such a wonderful evening, just by her sheer presence alone. Patricia's eyes just move over Malfoy to me and back again, lingering on our wet hair.

"You're a little far from home this late at night aren't you Scorpius?" She uses his full name like she has ownership of it. Her tone sounds superior; she's painfully aware that Malfoy and I are indeed caught between a rock and a hard place. I see Malfoy tense beside me. He's quite clearly also trying to retain his composure, the grinding of his teeth I can now hear suggests he's arguably doing a worse job at it than me. She breaks eye contact when he doesn't answer, rounding on me.

"And you Rosie. I don't think I've ever seen you awake at this hour. What in the devil are you doing up? And around the corridors no less?" Her voice sounds self-satisfied with a dash of distain thrown in. I'm praying internally that Malfoy won't say something hostile and make matters worse; unfortunately our previous exchanges with Patricia suggest that it's highly likely. When he speaks from beside me I barely recognise his voice. It's one that sounds so threatening the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Is it really any of your business Trish?"

"Ah! He speaks!" exclaims Patricia with mock outrage, the smile still plastered sickly sweet across her face. She places one hand on her hip in what I can only imagine is supposed to be a threatening manoeuvre. It is. And it's working. I can feel my cheeks burning red hot under the light of the torches. Another idiosyncrasy of mine which does absolutely nothing to suggest we aren't guilty of something.

I chance a glance up at him to see his jaw is set and his brow is knotted between his eyes.

"I'd never have thought you'd go for my sloppy seconds Weasley." There it is. She's said it out loud. And that twists a knife in my gut, painfully clarifying something I was trying very hard not to think about. Realised insecurities of my relationship with Malfoy as a girl he'd previously never looked at. I try to remember those wonderful words he spoke to me in the bathroom, but right now they've shrunk to the outer edges of my mind to be replaced with swirling images of Patricia and Malfoy in compromising positions. Positions _I'd_ found them in.

Malfoy take's a step towards her and I have to tug the bottom of his shirt to stop him going any further. I see her smile falter slightly but she holds her ground.

"Oh, touched a nerve have I, Scorpius?" I can hear him grind his teeth in response. He's breathing hard. I've still not uttered a single word. I must look completely dumb. I know I have to say something so naturally I put my big Weasley foot in it as usual.

"We got caught outside in the storm. Some second years were heading out into the grounds," I try, weakly. I would have even convinced myself had the last few words not sounded slightly slurred through the lasting effects of the Firewhiskey I've consumed tonight. Malfoy looks at me incredulously. Patricia actually laughs.

"I'm not completely stupid, Rose; although people seem to be under this misguided impression that I am. It often works to my advantage. But what you just said is the biggest load of Merlin's balls I've ever heard." She chuckles to herself again.

"If this is about patrols the other night-" I begin but am quickly interrupted by Patricia holding up her hand.

"Ah-ah! I couldn't care less about you catching me during patrols. I don't care about you being prefects. I care about people knowing the truth." So that's what she wants; self-gratification from the destruction of other people's private lives.

"You wouldn't know truth if it kicked you in the shins," ground out Scorpius.

"Tut tut Scorpius," She's purring at him again. This makes me feel sick. "Perhaps if you sounded like you had any respect for me I might respect the privacy of the scene I just stumbled upon." Her tone is suddenly serious and I find myself wishing we'd stayed in the Prefect's bathroom and felt the wrath of Filch instead.

"Trish, don't do something you might regret," I can hear the conviction in his voice slipping. Even he must know that it's going to be a lost cause to try to convince her that there is nothing going on between us. But the way he's talking to her is still completely unnerving. He really wasn't exaggerating when he mentioned his disgust at Patricia's past treachery.

"You don't get to threaten me in this Scorpius," the smile has disappeared off her face now and I'm dreading what's coming next, "we wouldn't want Ron Weasley finding out that the son of a Malfoy is afflicting himself upon his one and only daughter now. And what would your father think?" He inhales sharply at this, his face cracking from furious determination, to one of frustrated exhaustion. Her conviction tells me she's not lying.

I'd wanted to avoid my family for as long as humanly possible. I know they'll all have a bloody opinion on it, whatever _it_ is between Malfoy and I. I can feel it slipping through my fingers for every second we're still stood before Patricia now. Frankly I wish I didn't care. Remember what I said about washing my dirty undies in public? Well I like to avoid that. And this thing between me and Malfoy, is something I wanted to avoid getting out for as long as possible. Before anything got serious, before it was really a big deal. And now it's unavoidable. The look Patricia is giving me tells me just that; my private life is in her hands. She quite clearly isn't above crushing it into a pulp.

"Gotta hand it to you Rosie. I didn't think you had it in you." And with that she saunters away down the corridor out of sight. Neither of us make an attempt to stop her. It takes for her footsteps to have faded entirely for Malfoy's shoulders to sag in defeat before he suddenly thrusts his fist into the stone wall so forcefully I wouldn't be surprised if he's drawn blood. He yelps in pain, cradling his bleeding hand in his other. I can't believe he looks so helpless. I go around to his other side and move to his hand. He flinches under my touch, which almost brings tears to my eyes. How has … well whatever Malfoy and I are to each other, already been tarnished with the words and implications of his ex-girlfriend, my roommate and I'm starting to think; devil's spawn.

Picking up his hand I see a few droplets of blood and some stone stuck in the side of his fist. He stares at the spot where Patricia was stood. I tap his fist wordlessly moulding the skin closed, the tiny stones dropping to the floor. I bring it gingerly up to my mouth and brush my lips against the skin where the cut was. I see his shoulders relax slightly as he turns to meet my eyes. We just look at each other. It's nothing like the glorious times we've stood grinning stupidly at each other, instead I feel hollow and helpless, keeping hold of his hand.

"Well that wasn't what I had in mind," I said, the only coherent thing I can think about is Malfoy's eyes boring into mine. They've lost their usual twinkle.

"Me neither. I was rather enjoying this." I take a second and try not to dwell too much on his flagrant use of the word _this._ I don't succeed.

"What do you mean _this_?" I say, trying desperately hard not to sound frustrated at him. Neither of us could have predicted in a thousand millennia that Patricia Greenwood would waltz through the portrait hole and ruin any chance that Scorpius Malfoy and I, Rose Weasley had of keeping any tom-foolery under our hats.

"Weasley-"

"Rose." I correct him. This time I know I sound stern. I sound like my mother.

" _Rose_ ," he begins, sounding unsure of himself, "you know she means what she said? She'll ruin us both somehow with this."

"You don't know that." I try, knowing my eyes look pleading. This cannot possibly be him throwing in the towel.

"I'd put a fair few galleons on it." He states darkly.

I stomp my foot lightly, "Does it really matter?" Sighing I turn to face the portrait that now houses the Fat Lady who is watching us keenly with great interest. I resist the urge to throw two fingers in her direction.

"It does though doesn't it? She's right. It could do more than ruffle a few feathers."

"You know I don't care, right? You're a good guy! The world deserves to bloody know that."

"I like you Rose." He says this as if confirming it to himself as well as me.

"And I like you Scorpius." I suddenly feel rather vulnerable. I'm shivering and just want to go to bed, and wake up thinking it was all a dream and the Ravenclaw and Slytherin match is yet to be played. Hindsight is a cruel mistress.

"But –"

"Why does there have to be a 'but'?" I know I'm frustrated now; the tiredness in my voice makes it sound waspish. "I already said to you we aren't like our parents."

"That doesn't mean we won't have to explain ourselves to every god damn gossip monger in this school. And just FYI that's a significant majority." I'm worried he'll never smile jovially at me again. It sure as hell feels that way. I'm far too tired to argue about this. And I really don't want to argue about this. I want more snogging sessions and talks about Quidditch and maybe a visit to a secluded spot behind the greenhouses in the future with him.

"I'm exhausted. Also, I don't want to argue with you. About this, or about anything. Not right now." I admit. I look at him expectantly, praying for a similar response. When he doesn't say anything I just continue my trail of thought out loud. "We should both get some rest. You never know, we might be both having the same bad dream. Wake up on the Prefect's bathroom floor." I see his mouth twitch. He leans down and kisses the top of my wet hair. I want nothing more than to invite him up to my bedroom, trick staircase be damned. Fall asleep in the warmth of one another. But alas, the words left unspoken suggest this is it for tonight. I'm resisting every urge to kiss him right now. Assuming tonight won't be the last time we indulge in one another. _Christ Weasley, stop being so dramatic._

"You're right," he finally manages. He tousles his hair in an attempt to dry it. I nod and smile weakly at him before admitting defeat and turning to the Fat Lady, waving goodnight with the heaviest of hearts.

"I meant everything I said tonight, Rose." I stop to look back but he's already turning the corner, out of sight. If I wasn't so mentally and physically exhausted ( _again Weasley, a swim will do that to you_ ), I'd reply. Run after him; anything. I can't bring myself too. Enough has been said to fill in the cracks for the moment. Only the cold light of day tomorrow will tell us exactly what Patricia has planned. My stomach would be tied in knots with dread if I wasn't so exhausted. I force my eyes closed and replay the scene of Malfoy's darkened eyes before he dragged me under the water. Some heat rises in my chest and I fight to hold that feeling for a moment before opening my eyes again.

I'm grateful that the Fat Lady hasn't said anything. I don't even consider that as a magical painting, whatever she's heard might be passed around the castle by morning, regardless of Patricia's actions. I make my way through the common room, now lit only by the embers in the grate. When I make it up to the sixth year girls dormitory, I don't even get changed, but crawl into bed, makeup and all. I don't even remember my head hitting the pillow.

XXXXX

Thankfully, I'm fortunate to have a dreamless sleep. When I finally manage to get out of bed, the storm has subsided and the sun is shining high in the sky. For November this must mean I've either slept until lunch or I've just missed it. I take a deep breath, inhaling the heavy fragrance the bathwater has left on my skin. I had so much work to finish this weekend and I've wasted the morning in an unconscious stupor. I don't know what I'm more frustrated at; lack of working hours left in the day, Patricia for catching us last night or myself for just how much I do in fact care whether she's told anyone.

I throw off the covers in a huff, sitting up and wincing in pain. So it turns out, in an event where you've been drinking, even if you're so shocked by something that you feel sober, you don't in fact become sober and avoid the after effects of alcohol. Damn. Knowing just how much I need to write today I take a hot shower in an attempt to heal my cursed headache and head down to the common room. My book bag is extremely heavy; I consider this part of my added punishment for lack of alcohol awareness.

I step through the portrait hole and almost slip on the floor. There appears to be a small puddle where I was stood last night outside the portrait hole, and what with the castle being freezing at this time of year it just didn't dry up overnight. If anyone saw me they'd probably find the situation amusing, but I assure you that I see no humour in the situation. Recalling last night properly when stood out here once again is making that horrid anxiety come back again. Gnawing at my thoughts and pressing on my heart. My chest feels tight. The idea of walking into the Great Hall and everyone's eyes turning to me, leaving people whispering truths that hit a little close to home. The potential of this puts me in a foul mood.

Some younger students, I'm not even sure what year they're in come scurrying past me and through the portrait giving me curious glances. It appears I've just been staring at that tiny body of water, which I think is rather analogous to my dignity. I don't blame them, I must look absurd. I let out a strangled groan of frustration and head down to the Great Hall.

I pause just outside, watching students milling around in the entrance hall my gaze straying towards the dungeons. I shake my head and turn away. I have a lot to do today, and if the conclusion of last night was to see how the gobstones fall today then I really don't want to be dwelling on it. That involves longingly looking towards the route to Malfoy's common room. I try not to picture a bed like mine but with emerald green drapes. Instead I focus on the smell of roasted ham and buttered carrots; quite a good sigh that I've not missed lunch.

The hall is about half full and only one or two students look up to see me enter, quickly going back to whatever they were doing. There seems to be the usual Sunday lunchtime buzz in the Great Hall, most students using this time as an opportunity for an excursion from the library. Perhaps I'm being rather narcissistic when I think people will actually care about what Malfoy and I get up to?

Sitting down next to Albus I take a cursory peek at the Slytherin table and don't see _him_ sat there. After last night it's a relief to not lock eyes with him. Inside my head I must sound bloody obsessed. _You don't say?_ Perhaps Malfoy's got under my skin a little more than I'd care to admit. This epiphany does nothing to enhance my mood. I realised I just rudely grunted in greeting to Albus. I hope grabbing a polka dot tea pot and pouring myself a tea in large a silver tankard will be enough of an instance, that Albus has a little empathy for me in my hungover state.

"Little late for breakfast isn't it?" Albus quips, turning a page of the _Sunday Prophet_. I only grunt in response again. My headache is definitely getting worse.

"Sleep in?" Albus is really pushing his luck right now. Knowing him, he's just doing it out of general curiosity and not to push my buttons. I have to remind myself that he isn't in fact his pig-headed brother James.

"Something like that." I manage, cradling my tea in my hands and letting the scolding hot liquid burn my lips. Looking across to his paper I'm thrilled to see that the headline of the _Prophet_ is something to do with International Wand Lore. Normally I'd take more of an interest in international relations but as you can probably tell by now, that's not exactly where my head is at the moment. Albus merely looks at me a little pityingly.

"You look tired Rose." It's not the probing question I expected, but rather a slightly pointed statement. My headache means he's unlikely to get a response. After a while however, I notice his gaze isn't wavering and is rather transfixed on me as if trying to see right through me. I'm a little unnerved at this. It's a rather similar look to one Uncle Harry gave me before a telling off when we were far younger, with even fewer worries.

"Thanks Al. There was a party last night y'know?" I say, letting out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding.

"I didn't see you all night though. Alice was also looking for you later on. She said something about vicarious living and that the Ravenclaw actually had straw for brains, and some other insults. You know Alice, she's often rather choice with her words," said Albus, flicking another page of _The Prophet_ not even pretending to read it.

"I was tired," a quite blatant lie from me, "so I left early." I can't justify lying to Albus in any way, shape or form. I'm fully aware that my grumpiness doesn't make my lying to my cousin acceptable. I feel a pang of conscience in my gut. He'll see right through me. After all this business of wanting to keep things between Malfoy and I under wraps, it'll probably help my case, not to lie to my closest and most favoured family member.

"You're a terrible liar." These words, an echo from the previous night only tighten the knot of guilt. My eyes finally snap back up to meet Albus'. He looks inquisitive beneath the poorly hidden veil of pity. He's caught me. Just as I suspected.

"What do you mean?" I find myself saying, even though he's about to call me out on whatever bullshit I thought I could spin to him. I know the more I resist the truth, the worse I'm also going to make Albus feel. Lying to him is almost treacherous. My stomach chooses this moment to gurgle. I grab a roll and begin to butter it. Distracting myself from the inevitable; calling me out on my indiscretions. Albus, the middle child, sleuth extraordinaire. As I'm about to take a bite from my roll that is now caked in salted butter (which I'm pretty sure if what heaven smells like), he passes a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket across the bench to me.

A few members of the Slytherin Quidditch team enter the Great Hall to some whoops and cheers from their House mates. My mouth is instantly dry. He's not with them though. There is no platinum blonde in sight. I take a sip of tea and unfurl the note. Albus is eyeing the note warily, as if it may vanish in my hands. If it's possible for that knot to tighten further, it just did.

 _To whom it may concern,_

 _It is with my greatest regret that I must inform you of the indecency in which I found the Gryffindor Prefect, Miss Rose Weasley the previous evening. It was to my surprise to observe a tryst between her and none other than the Slytherin Prefect, Scorpius Malfoy quite substantially after hours. (Naturally it is for this reason that I do not wish to divulge my identity, for fear of equal punishment.) It certainly surprised me that Rose Weasley should choose such a philanderer in which to engage in such elicit activities. I therefore thought it appropriate to inform the Potter and Weasley family of this indiscretion to allow them to prevent such occurrences in the future for the prosperity of their families. My understanding is that the public eye, would not take too kindly to this revelation. The Golden Weasley daughter in the throes of passion with the child of their previous enemy. A revelation that may not be taken to kindly. I provide this information as someone who has the interests of the Trio's families at heart and believed it was important that you, a close relation to the aforementioned Rose Weasley, should be made aware of it._

 _Sincerely,_

 _An Honourable Student_

I read the letter twice through before crushing it in my now shaking hand. Hot bubbling anger, was now again in a rather short space of time pooling in my stomach, the flames licking my insides in the most painful way. So this is what she decided to do. Embarrass me to my family and call me out on my indiscretion by discrediting Scorpius as a Lothario of women. I couldn't choose which part of this note was most incorrect. How Malfoy was some seducer of women or that Patricia herself thought she was an " _honourable student"_. I exactly claim that her account is false. I consider again how much insistence she put on how terrible this situation is. I'm infuriated by the fact she believes she has any right to inform my family how to think.

"When did you get this?" my voice is shaking with rage. Albus is still giving me a pitying look which almost makes my anger boil over into tears. He seems to see this shift in my face and stands abruptly from the bench, beckoning me to follow him. In the entrance hall we bump into James, his arm around a tall willowy brunette.

"Ah, Rosie you look as bad as I feel! What a good party those Slytherin's throw eh?!" With those brief words he just struts past us into the hall. Albus tugs at my robe directing us towards the oak front doors. The sunlight hits me right between the eyes; I blink through the glare, following Albus gingerly down the steps and onto the wet grounds. Our direction veering drastically towards the Quidditch pitch. There are a few black dots hovering above the stands in the distance, set clearly against the cobalt sky.

"Someone pushed it under our door this morning," said Albus, breaking the suffocating silence, "thankfully I was the first one up this morning in our dorm."

"So no one else knows?" was my first question. This quite obvious admission loosening the knot an inch.

"You know James would have given you it in the neck if he'd also received such lovely reading material." I consider this. He's probably right. As I've mentioned before, I might be book smart but Albus is definitely people smart.

"You're probably right."

He doesn't skip a beat before asking, "how long?" I sigh, knowing how pathetic this situation has become in the blink of an eye.

"About 48 hours Al." He raises an eyebrow at me sceptically so I continue. "Since we became friends, maybe a week or so, and then Friday night things sort of…kicked off." With this, I kick a few stones angrily on the grass as we stroll into the shade of the stands. Albus stops for a moment, studying my face. So I plough on, embarrassment be damned, my mouth producing a torrent of hatred directed verbally at one Patricia Greenwood. It's a shame she's not present.

"So obviously Patricia had to exaggerate things, as if we were going at it like animals and that Scorpius is some sort of Casanova. It's nothing bloody like that. I thought for a bit that we were getting on really well and he's actually _nice_ compared to what I'd heard about him in the past. Obviously Patricia's way with men was kind of intimidating, and after my admission about her cheating I felt bad when I started to think about him as more than a friend. But for crying out loud Al, no matter whether I'm a prefect or not, they shouldn't allow you to be brewing potions late night in a small room and not expect things to happen sometimes. And I do like him. I'm about ninety-five percent sure he feels the same." I finish lamely, careful to avoid mentioning the prefect's bathroom. Taking a breath I lean my throbbing forehead against one of the damp wooden panels, closing my eyes and waiting for the inevitable.

"When you say it like that, combined with the letter, it does sound mildly scandalous."

I twist my head sharply to look at him, "Are you joking?"

"No. I mean, Patricia has a point. The papers probably would have a field day."

"It's not like it's my mum and his dad for crying out loud! That would be scandalous!" I throw my arms in the air, desperately trying to make Albus see sense. He only chuckles.

"Well when you put it like that, yeah, _that_ would be a scandal. Possibly the biggest one since there were rumours about your mum and my dad," he continued chuckling as we walked along the sides of the stands to the spare broom shed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Albus asks quietly. There's the kicker. The question I was dreading the most. At least I know that Albus, having not flown off the handle already is very unlikely to do so. This quells my trepidation a little.

"I don't know. I spoke to Alice when I was worried the whole thing sounded a bit unusual," I said shrugging. Albus tapped the lock on the broom shed with his wand and the door popped open. "I just wanted some advice you know. None of us really knew him, and I just wanted a "non-family" opinion without the usual over protective bullshit that comes along with it," Albus frowned at this last comment. "Ok everyone accept you," I try to salvage that little mistake, "but I was worried about what you'd think Al. He's probably not going to be anyone's first choice for me to be romantically involved with or some other such nonsense."

"You could have said something," he started, but before I could apologise he held up his hand to stop me, "what makes you think he doesn't like you? Or at least where is this five percent coming from?"

I think for a moment. My thoughts playing out in reverse like scenes from a muggle movie. They halt at a dark night in early October when I'd pulled back a tapestry and seen dearest Patricia and Scorpius entwined tightly on the stairs, the light from the hall splashing the illicit scene with a heated glow. I swallowed. This all boils down to my god damn insecurities. How I know Patricia and know he picked her once in time. He'd pressed his lips to hers in hot, flushed scenes while I slept soundly in my dorm none the wiser. He'd once wanted to press her against stone walls in darkened corridors. And now, here I am longing for another kiss, another graze of his hand on the back of mine. My body amalgamated with his in searing passion, when he'd also been with her. I know these thoughts are torturous to myself. But I honestly can't help but feel this way. I like to blame it on being related to part Veelas.

Does he feel like this though? Does he feel this longing that he struggles to contain, but considers constantly when thinking about me, like I do with him?

 _The other girls I've seen while here at Hogwarts don't hold a thousand candles to_ _you._ His voice in my head is soothing and sultry. What reason would he have for saying that if he hadn't meant it? Albus' voice interrupts my thoughts at this crossroads.

"That smile on your face now, would suggest he might have filled that five percent. You're just being your usual self-deprecating self." He grabbed two brooms from the cupboard. I hadn't realised I'd been smiling. Just imagining that toothy grin is contagious.

"A fly might take your mind off it." He says, holding out the older broom for me. I hesitate.

"I'd love to Al. But I've got so much work to finish today."

"Not even half an hour?" he shakes the broom in front of my eyes and I swat it away.

"I don't think my headache will allow me to stay in the air that long either." I admit, closing my eyes again and breathing in deeply the cold, fresh scented air.

"You do know it's no one's business but yours right? I mean I wish you'd told me sooner, but I understand why you didn't." Albus puts his arm around my shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. His scruffy hair tickles my ears. I squirm a little in his grasp and he chuckles pulling away.

"I love that you believe that Al, but it's not like I can sleep soundly in the knowledge that people here at Hogwarts at least will keep their opinions to themselves."

"You said you like him?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then why does it matter?"

"I _know._ " I say through gritted teeth, "just I think I may need to convince him of that."

"I can understand for an outsider it might be intimidating to consider dating one of us." Said Albus stroking his chin. I had to grin at the use of the word "we" considering that encapsulated about a quarter of the school. "Maybe just talk to him."

"I said we should both just sleep on it. There's nothing like your ex walking in on you to kill the mood," I can hear the light tone in my voice returning. Somehow Albus has managed to curb a potentially catastrophic situation. He really has a way of calming me down.

"Patrols tomorrow with him?"

"Yep."

"Patricia's not a patient person. Any damage will be done in one foul swoop. You'll know by dinner if she's gotten to anyone else."

"That's really reassuring Al, thanks. And there I was thinking you were named accurately as your name-sake; kind and wise. How wrong I was." I say smiling at him.

"He'd be mad not to be interested, Rose." Albus' change of subject takes me by surprise. I suddenly feel awkward. This mature, sensible Al is getting a bit too much for me. If you couldn't tell by now, my way of dealing with this quite lovely compliment from my cousin is to divert the subject and go all sarcastic at him.

"Aww Al, stop. You'll make me blush!" I slap his arm and we both laugh (thankfully). The sound of our laughter lightens the knots in my stomach, and my mind feels altogether lighter.

"Well if you're not coming, I'm still going for a fly." He makes to leave, but doubles back taking the parchment out of his pocket and putting it in my hand. I take one look at it before pulling out my wand.

" _Incendio!_ " I mutter, more for emphasis than necessity. The parchment curls into flames that shoot from my wand and I drop the parchment as it turns to ash before it hits the ground. I stamp on it once for good measure.

"That more like it Rosie. Good luck up at the castle, ok? I'll catch you at dinner."

"Bye Al. And thanks!"

"Don't mention it Rosie, just never tell me the gory details," he yells over his shoulder disappearing through the archway in the stands.

"Don't call me that!" I yell after him before turning to head back up to the castle.

Well that was enlightening. I'm now going to take up root in my favourite secluded spot in the library and work till dinner. Which I'm already dreading. Albus speaks sense though, and I know I can't dwell on this situation if I'm a) not going to see Scorpius til tomorrow and b) if I'm to get any work done. By hiding in the library, I may be able to avoid anyone else whose been slipped a note or has been told of the corridor encounter Patricia had with Scorpius and I. Also I really don't have the energy in my hungover state to repeat the conversation I had with Albus, but in various ways with other family members.

Scorpius isn't going anywhere. Annoyingly, as much as most of me wants to search him out, he's probably hidden away in the Slytherin common room to avoid any rumours himself, I know I can't. Letting the dust settle does seem like the best option right now, and I will see him tomorrow night for patrols. I knew it all seemed a bit too good to be true. I cross my fingers in the pockets of my robes and pray to Albus Dumbledore himself that I can work in piece today and worry about all this tomorrow. There is as much a chance of Patricia having a change of heart as there is me failing Charms, but I'll take it all on the chin; best I can. After all I have so much bloody work to get done.

* * *

 **Hello all. I hope this wasn't disappointing. I think this was the hardest thing I've ever had to write. You can probably tell based upon the time it took to get this out then the previous, more fun chapters. Keeping the characters _in_ character as well as progressing the story was really difficult. I couldn't have Rose lying to Albus anymore so that had to come out. Otherwise I know this is a weak chapter in terms of what's really happening, I just hope you'll all stick with the story. I had an epiphany of something to change in the last few chapters which I think there will only be two; both about as long as this one, if not longer. This said epiphany put a spanner in the works and meant I have changed how I'm going to conclude this story. This also fills me with dread as I want all you readers to enjoy it! Anyway, enough of my own self-deprecating! **

**Any thoughts and reviews are always welcome. Those who review every time (you know who you are) I really do appreciate it!**


	10. Chapter 10

"Two winter meads, please," said Alice holding up two fingers up to the wispy bar maid. She tugged off her hat, shaking the snow onto our already white-covered boots. "This'll warm us up at least." She says to me, while passing one of the steaming goblets that have appeared on the bar into my outstretched hand. She gestures with her hat to two small armchairs by a window. We meander through the mish-mash of tables and sit down. I throw my robes unceremoniously over the back of my chair before curling up with my drink in my lap. It smells like oranges, nutmeg, cinnamon, tart apples; reminding me that Christmas is just around the corner.

"So, what the hell has been happening with you this week?" asks Alice over the top of her drink, giving me a rather tender look. I wonder if I really do look in such a fragile state that it's warranted.

"Eugh, where do I even start?"

"Well considering I've heard all sorts of nonsense, most of which I would believe as much as a tea leaf reading, I consider it impertinent that as your friend and confidante I hear the truth. Mostly so I can start setting the record straight." She takes another sip and kicks her shoes off, pulling her feet up underneath her. I'm oddly reminded of our family cat.

"Even Trelawney wouldn't have foreseen such a terrible week," I sigh taking a sip myself, savouring the warmth of the liquid and greedily inhaling the fumes.

"Well, last time I saw you was at the Slytherin party. I had to feign to Albus that I was looking for you, now that seems rather pointless. Then the next thing I know James is screaming at Malfoy in the Great Hall. Given that I've witnessed these events with my own eyes," she points rather obviously at both her eyes in unison at this point, "I can only assume that I wasn't seeing things. After that, the truth trail runs dry and I'm left with hearsay and outlandish stories about you and Malfoy eloping together."

"I assure you the latter in all of that _is_ ludicrous and an unfathomable suggestion," I say bitterly.

At this moment we're interrupted by a young wizard with long mousy hair and a winning smile, my stomach tightens at this toothy resemblance.

"Any food for you ladies today?" he pulls a quill from his back pocket along with a leaf of parchment, looking between us expectantly.

"I'll have the carrot cake and she'll have a slice of the bakewell with clotted cream," answered Alice before I could get a word out. I give her a grateful smile and just nod in confirmation to the young man. He scratches the order on the parchment while waving his wand that appeared to have been in his other back pocket in the general direction of the bar. I see a cake slice hover towards a tottering pile of carrot cake slices before looking back at Alice.

"I thought you could do with something sweet. It might cheer you up a little, and since the Hog's Head has been done up we might as well reap the benefits while we're still at Hogwarts." Alice mused before finishing off her large glass of mead. Much to my dismay.

Alice did have a point though. The Hog's Head had been done up a few years before we started at Hogwarts. They'd stripped it down to the bare bones of wooden beams and floorboards before giving it a good cleaning that old Aberforth had been neglecting. They'd then filled it with a cosy assortment of armchairs, squat stools and fabric covered chairs. It reminds me of the Divination classroom, but the only vapour filling the air, thankfully, is that of steaming drinks and smoking goblets. It had a lovely welcoming feel that was only dampened, most ordinary wizards believed by the unusual clientele. I'm rather glad there aren't any hags sat up at the bar today. It often makes it difficult to hear one another in conversation.

It's important to note that another reason most students don't come here, is because it is kind of a well-kept secret. It's almost thought of as a fable from the days of the Second War. It may also have something to do with the fact that Aberforth in his forgetful old age had provided no advertising said sprucing up of his pub. Albus and I stumbled upon it about a year ago while a conversation ran away from us about the state of the Quidditch League we ended up inside. On that particular visit I'm certain there was a vampire sat in the corner, but Albus was convinced he was just a pale chap with an unfortunate habit of staring at your neck. If anything I happen to find the alternative clientele bears most of the place's character.

"Here's your cakes ladies," says the young waiter as he brandishes a serviette for each of us.

"Can we have another two meads as well please?" I open my mouth to protest but am interrupted, "this is my treat," states Alice rather firmly.

"Of course. I'll add 'em to the bill." I forced a few mouthfuls of cake into my mouth to avoid having to speak for a few moments more. Sadly he brought our other drinks exceptionally fast and she rounded on me again.

"Right. Now we have more drinks you have no excuse. Talk to me, Rose." She folds her arms in front of her chest looking imploringly at me.

 _Where to even begin eh, Weasley?_ It really had been a _long_ week. I wish I'd never even considered the idea that the whole school would have an opinion on my personal life. My assumed infallible prudence being apparently tarnished by Scorpius Malfoy was the most intriguing event in Hogwarts history since Teddy Lupin had proposed to Victoire Weasley at the Leaver's Ball a few years back. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on it.

I cannot stress enough just how many people, and how frequently I have had to tell those same people repeatedly that Malfoy did not deface my womanhood in a broom closet. I didn't realise how hurtful such false information could be when twisted and distorted to barely fit in the truth. Each individual family member alone I could consider as collateral damage to what, at the end of the day was just a few snogs in various places around the castle. They all had their input over the past few days along with altering degrees of interrogation on the topic. How pathetic it all sounds when the truth of my "dirty undies" is compared to the elaborately woven stories formed by Chinese whispers passed between House tables.

Naturally, things with Malfoy have gone from blissful to distant to near strangers once again in the space of a week. I caught him staring at me from the Slytherin table yesterday evening which made my stomach to do the tiniest of flips. Something I should try to avoid in future it would seem.

"So you've heard about the fiasco that is James Potter? You probably know what happened with that a lot more accurately than I do considering I was asleep in the library at the time. Perhaps you could enlighten me on that one first," I utter glumly.

"Well, I won't bullshit you. It was a scene. I'm aware I don't know Malfoy all that well, if at all, but somehow he managed to keep his cards close to his chest amongst all the drama evoked by James." Alice takes another sip of her drink before continuing, "Before I continue, I hope we're both agreed that your cousin is a pig, because I don't want to offend in any way in my re-hashing of the events."

"Please, go ahead. What he said to me, let alone Malfoy is grounds for comparing him to whatever creature that often wallows in mud you like." Alice grins.

"So…James comes storming into the hall around the start of dinner, which isn't all that unusual. He heads over to the Slytherin table where Malfoy is sat with his mate, Zabini I think, taps him on the shoulder. All this time I'm just watching curiously and then James starts yelling. Right in his face. The first few bits I couldn't really make out as there was still a lot of chatting in the hall at this point, but after a moment the whole hall was dead quiet. Not wanting to miss the drama; nosy buggers-"

"You just said you'd been watching." I point out, slightly amused.

"Yes well, I now have a vested interest in Malfoy because of you. Especially seeing as I hadn't seen him for the duration of the party so I assumed something good came out of it."

"I'll get to that later. Go on."

"James said something about how he 'couldn't believe you'd got with the son of a Death Eater' or something to that effect."

I let out a strangled groan at this point, putting my head in my hands. I've seen Malfoy's arms. And torso. There is no dark mark there. Maybe I should go tell James that this evening; see how he likes it.

"At this point, the handsome one stands up, quite a bit taller than James. He says something quietly like 'Potter, you don't know what you're talking about' to which James replies something about how he wasn't exactly denying it," Alice shrugs at this point, the story gaining momentum as she presses on. "All this time Zabini looks like he's been slapped across the face with a wet fish I might add, wish someone had a picture of that. Anyway!...then Malfoy asks James why he hasn't asked you about this and that he might get some actual truth in there somewhere. Then Malfoy just left. Walked right past him." I think about this for a second. This would explain what happened to me afterwards.

"Then he came and found me in the library."

"I figured as much," says Alice giving me what I can only assume she thinks is a sympathetic expression. It's coming off more like she's smelt something rotten.

"To which I got about the same spiel by the sounds of it; along with a bombardment of questions to which I just said he could mind his own business. And that he was ridiculously out of line making such wild allegations towards Malfoy like that which are completely unjustified."

"And how'd he take that?" asked Alice, barely hiding her grin.

"Phenomenally well. Even offered to buy me flowers in apology," I'm aware I sound awfully morose, so the sarcasm doesn't work quite so well. I come off sounding more like Professor Binns.

"Unsurprisingly, our whole brood have been giving me opinions on 'that Malfoy guy' all week. I'm bloody sick of it Ally." I rest my chin in one hand propping it up on the table.

"That's where I come in. You can vent at me and I'll keep buying drinks. Just so you know, I'm expecting something satin for Christmas; no biggie." I finally manage to return a smile. Alice somehow slowly breaking through my current grey outer shell, giving way to my usual cherry red persona.

"What about the rest of the week?" Alice probes, shuffling the last mouthful of carrot cake around her plate, "have you even seen Malfoy?"

"Well Albus patrolled with me like before all this kicked off. He didn't tell me exactly what Malfoy said when he asked if they could switch back, but Albus is much more understanding of Malfoy's standing in all of this. He said something last weekend about how he could understand why for Malfoy this could be a little overwhelming."

"I have to agree with Al on that one. I don't imagine he predicted the drama that was inevitable if you two hooked up."

"Neither did I. This was it though, right? My whole worry about this. Maybe I was naïve to think we could make something work. A Malfoy and a Weasley. It does sound a bit like a fucking fairytale now I think about it," I can't help it, I'm groaning with frustration again. This self-pity is worse than any sort of insecurities that dwell on my mind. I just feel pathetic. The sad thing is I'm acutely aware that the only thing I can do is wait for it to all blow over. Thank Merlin it's almost the Christmas holidays.

"Now stop that. This self pity crap," she waggles a finger at me before gesturing at my half eaten bakewell slice. "Are you going to finish that?"

"I'm a Weasley, what do you think?"

"Well eat faster. It being sat there in my eye line is making me want another slice of something. They had treacle tart in as well today. I knew I should have gone for that."

"I'm not stopping you."

"My purse is though. So, you haven't even really spoken to Malfoy this week? I thought you had potions together."

"Yeah," I say thinking back, "that was an … _interesting_ affair."

 _I enter the freezing potions room with Albus as the whispers follow me to my usual desk near the far wall. There hum a constant irritation since word got out about Malfoy and I. I try to avoid the other students gaze and look vaguely towards the front of the classroom with my head held as high as my dignity will let it. Each pairs potion sits in front of the students that brewed it. The small fish-like splashes the gold liquid makes on the insides of the cauldron on my desk, dazzlingly bright in the dark potions room._

 _A few minutes pass before the door opens again and I see a flash of blond in my periphery. I struggle not to turn round as he pulls the seat out next to me. As usual I fail to control my body and turn my head towards him. His eyes are vacant too and he looks disgruntled. His toothy grin absent, dispelled and in its place in a thin line drawn across his mouth. I assume he's avoiding catching my eye, but that's going to be rather difficult seeing as we're going to have to assess the potion together, and quite possibly test it. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as my gaze unmoving, rakes over his face. I'm trying to find any little source that he's actually noticed I'm sat right beside him. It was only a few days ago that he was kissing me wildly and ferociously as if his life depended on it. I certainly won't be forgetting that in a hurry. This silence is making me feel anxious and awkward._

 _I'm about to say something, but before I can I'm rudely interrupted by Slughorn entering the classroom and clapping his hands together over his belly._

" _Well class, you've all work exceptionally hard I see. I had a sneaky look at all your potions this morning as I was distributing them and I must say there is some exceptional work here. You should all be pleased with yourselves." There is a murmur of gratitude towards the Professor before silence falls once again._

" _Now, although the potions were all good I shall be rewarding only a select few. Those who aren't may expect a little extra work in the next few weeks leading up to Christmas," there is a collective groan from a few students in protest but Slughorn holds up his hand to silence them again._

" _So today we'll be assessing the potions brewed by your peers. I will be awarding something from me and also a peer assessed award. I'll be bottling and reserving some of each potion for the last lesson of term; something I'm sure will come as a relief to most." He waddled behind his desk while drawing his wand from his tight waistband. The murmurs returned, only this time they were quite obviously speculative about the sort of reward Slughorn had in mind. What with a variety of expensive and complex potions present, I know I'm not the only one yearning for a little bottle of something for my own personal use._

" _Rightyo! Well an unorthodox pair they might be, they certainly didn't disappoint on this project," I inhale a sharp breath and I can feel Malfoy tense beside me as Slughon's gaze rests on us. "A perfectly brewed Felix Felicis by Mr Malfoy and Miss Weasley; what a fine couple of potioneers you make!" I can hear some people sniggering at that last part and force my focus again to the dancing surface of the potion. "That'll be thirty points to both your houses, and the largest bar of Honeyduke's chocolate I could carry." He pulls two hefty bars from his top draw and places them on his desk beside a jar of frogspawn. The class provide a polite smattering of applause. I can feel their eyes darting between us. I'm certain my cheeks are crimson._

" _Now to business. I'd like a brief summary of the appearance, viscosity and aroma of all potions that weren't tended by yourself and an assessment of the potions accuracy. As you've all clearly worked rather hard, they'll be no further work set today. You may start." At this I go straight for my bag to grab some parchment and quill; anything to avoid the gaze of a dozen or so judging eyes and those of pity from Albus. I'd like this done as quickly as possible if Malfoy isn't even going to look at me. Quite clearly the murmurs have gotten to him too._

 _In the corner of my eye I catch a glint of glass, turning my head sharply to see Malfoy stuffing something into the inside of his robes. It takes me a moment amongst the now bustling classroom to realise what he's just done. He finally captures my gaze, aware that I've just witnesses his misdeed. The blank expression he's assessing me with infuriates me and I can't help but whisper harshly under my breath._

" _What do you think I'm going to do? Tell on you?" I ask this bitingly, upset at myself for my own unnecessarily harsh tone._

" _Of course not." He drawls back, in a manner I wouldn't have considered Malfoy to possess until a short time ago._

" _Look Scorpius-" I try, my voice hushed tentatively now, but I'm interrupted._

" _No, Weasley. You don't have to say anything. You're cousin did a good job of dragging my name through the mud with exaggerated information which has somehow made me enemies of people I'd never once even spoken to." The silence that fills this moment between us is tense. Too tense._

" _So that's it then?" I ask. I want to get right to it. If he's throwing in the damn towel like a coward then I'm not going to sit here and beg._

" _Well yeah."_

" _Right." It's not intended as a question but my inflection would suggest otherwise. He locks eyes with me again, and this time I know that he's lying. His eyes are shining in the brightness of the cauldron beside us. Flickering over the very details of my face as if to memorise them. His mouth twitches slightly, making my chest tighten. His gaze drops to my lips and I see the familiar darkening of his eyes; a dead giveaway, and for one sweet moment I think he's going to change his mind. Say he doesn't give a bastarding bludger that the whole school has an opinion on him and me, together in some sort of amorous condition. Heart wrenchingly I see his face fall as he tears his eyes away and pushes away from the desk._

" _I'll see you around ….Weasley." His voice low and hoarse, in an attempt to mask any hint of affection or wit he might have previously thrown my way. I watch him walk over to Zabini who it appears had been watching us closely. I manage to nod at him politely before making my way to an adjacent desk. An emptiness suddenly swelling inside my chest. I bite down hard on my tongue as I feel salt tears blur my vision. I take one shuddering breath, and begin scribbling on my parchment. Trying desperately to distract myself from the colossal disappointment engulfing me._

 _That thing that happened between Malfoy and myself, isn't something that happens regularly for me. I'd really clung to every grin and every graze we'd shared. And now I'm left musing over the intrusive nature of my cousin and the lengths exes go to for the satisfaction of destroying something, that from the inside appear a marvellous set of moments that felt like they were blossoming into a mutual affinity for one another._

"He took some Felix Felicis?"

"I'm pretty sure of it yeah." I say, after recollecting the incident of mine and Malfoy's interaction in potions earlier this week to Alice. Amongst our general conversation, we've consumed another two meads each and I can now feel a low hum in my ears as if the blood's rushing to my head. It's not an unpleasant feeling, I assure you. I feel rather warm and content even though the dialogue is still focused on the past weeks incidents. The mead is certainly a welcomed addition to our Hogsmeade visit.

"Bit risky isn't it?" asks Alice as she waves in thanks to the bar tender for the fourth order of meads he levitates over the empty tables to us. I merely shrug in reply.

"Kind of wish I'd had the same idea actually. I could do with some liquid luck at the moment."

At this moment Alice claps her hands together enthusiastically, generating a few disturbed looks from those stood behind the bar.

"I completely forgot!" she almost yells grabbing her goblet of mead and brandishing it at me sending some slopping over the sides. "How did James find out? And more importantly, how on earth is it that you've not received an angry letter from your dad? Not sure why I didn't start my line of questioning with that." She looked eagerly at me, awaiting my response.

"Those details sort of fall by the way side amongst all the juicy bits I guess," unable to not grin back at a clearly rather tipsy Alice. In some ways I love being of age already, in others I'm not so sure. The walk back up to the castle will at least be much more pleasant in the snow after the copious amounts of alcohol. I take an enthusiastic swig myself before continuing.

"Well I'm not even certain myself how James found out, but the gist I got was that Patricia actually told him herself. At some point on Sunday afternoon. After he confronted me, Albus, who to be honest, was an absolute babe about the situation-" at this turn of phrase Alice has to hide her giggles behind her hand, "- reiterated what I told him about it being none of his business. Apparently James went on a rant in the common room loud enough for everyone in the dormitories to hear and Albus had to stun him because he wouldn't calm down. I don't know what happened after that but Albus informed me in Herbology the following day that I at least had nothing to worry about with James anymore."

"So Albus, 'The Babe' did something to scare James into submission on his tirade about your personal life?"

"That's the far reaching extent of my knowledge."

"So 'The Babe'-"

"You can stop doing that now. It was merely a term of endearment at how much I owe him for shutting James the hell up."

"Yes but whoever thought of someone calling Albus 'Babe', what do you think he'd do if I said it to his face?"

"Would probably blink a few times in confusion and then carry on as if you hadn't said anything."

"Ok. So you think Albus bribed him or something?"

"He wouldn't tell me." I confess, feeling a little wounded Al hadn't told me what he'd done. It is probably warranted given I didn't tell him some rather big developments in my life.

"Well James does do a lot of….how should I put this? Questionable things? And somehow he doesn't get caught. It's frustrating more than anything."

"I'm pretty sure he's the reasons Neville's tentacula plant was DOA in our last lesson in fifth year. They're a super expensive commodity to buy as a shoot and he would definitely have gotten suspended for breaking into the greenhouses if he was proven as the culprit."

"Maybe. Well I'll have to buy Albus a drink next time I see him for being your Knight in Shining Armour on this one."

"I think you've bought enough drinks today Ally." I say as I finish off the last of my mead, almost dropping the goblet clumsily back onto the table.

After much cursing on Alice's behalf when I lay a few sickles on the counter as she's searching for her purse we make it out into the harsh cold. I wrap my scarf tighter around my neck and watch Alice do the same. It's gotten dark already, meaning we haven't got much time left until we're expected to be back up at the castle. The street lights cast dark shadows from the buildings, though their eyes remain twinkling warm and amber and inviting. Alice laced her arm through mine as I feel her stumble into me a bit.

"Careful Ally, we don't want everyone to know we've been boozing on a Saturday afternoon."

"Oh noooo…..Ms Prefect going all goodie goodie on me?" she slurs slightly at the end, and I'm grateful that somehow I'm holding it together reasonably well. The freezing flakes of snow that are landing on my cheeks are doing a rather good job of steadying my senses even though my boots are slipping slightly on the icy path. That or I've just gone over my limit on mead. We cross the street to Honeyduke's as Alice titters at her own joke.

"I don't think goodie goodies take a swim with another prefect in their bathroom do they?" For some reason I'd withheld this information from Alice up til now. Probably to gauge the best possible reaction. It worked. She spun on the spot so fast disentangling her arm with mine she pitched forwards towards the barrel of liquorice wands under the shop sign and I had to grab the back of her robes to stop her from falling face first into it. Her mouth was positively gaping as she fixed me with a look of awe.

"Rose Weasley," her voice filled with reproach, "why on _earth_ are you only just telling me this juicy sweet nugget of secrecy now?" she leant on the barrel to support herself. I screw my face up.

"Please don't use that phrase ever again."

"What? Juicy, sweet nugget? I will if you forgo telling me such things this late in the day again!" her reprimand would have been better placed had she not been swaying slightly.

"Sorry, I guess after it all sort of blew up out of proportions it didn't seem so important. What with me getting this horribly accurate sense he's not going to look in my direction again unless it's accidental." Alice waved her hand irritably.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to hear about this adventure you had with this handsome chappie." _Thanks Alice, you're really helping me get over the situation._ I sigh in defeat. The phrase "living vicariously through you" repeating itself in my head.

"Oh come on Rose, I didn't even know it was possible to share the prefect's bathroom! That alone is rather valuable Hogwarts knowledge." I look at my friend. My lovely, helpful, sympathetic but otherwise completely unabashed friend. I know this gossip is incredibly valuable and she has just spent the best part of a Hogsmeade trip in the Hog's Head listening to me whine about some chap who I was fooling around with for all of two days. Now, you'll notice the mead has given me a rather more irritable edge when looking at the situation. Well Malfoy, maybe it is your loss!

"I sort of dragged him in there and we took a swim before Patricia found us outside the common room," I admit watching Alice's eyes widen even further if at all possible.

"Crickey Rose you're giving me shivers," murmured Alice dusting the layer of snow off her shoulders.

"I think that's just the snow." I assure her, "We should head inside and take a look before we need to-"

The door of Honeyduke's swings open, and of bloody course. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Just when I was thinking my luck couldn't get any worse. Or at least the stars might align ever so slightly more in my favour. Nope. Just a surprised looking Scorpius Malfoy. I squint at him through the bright light he's released from the shop entrance onto where Alice and I are stood. It illuminates the snowflakes as they fall into his gorgeously untamed hair. His appearance at this moment causes my face to blush, the slight intoxication by winter mead had heightening the volume of my voice as I was explaining our past romantic endeavours not nearly as quietly as I should to my friend in his close vicinity. I really hope he didn't hear any of it. His eyes look almost blearily at me and I wonder if he's had a few butterbeers during the trip as well.

The man in question appears to be carrying a large bag under one arm, secured with a black gloved hand. His Slytherin scarf laid loose across his shoulders while his cloak is fastened with what looks like a small circular broach with a sizeable emerald in the centre. I blink through the light to find he's staring at my feet. I look down rather stupidly seeing my usual boots and then back up to his face which has a hint of a smile adorning his beautifully sculpted features.

"Eh-hem!" I'm startled from Malfoy's surprise appearance by Alice smirking while leaning further and further into the barrel of liquorice wands. She takes one and sucks on the end innocently watching. I seriously consider killing her at this point. But I think the mead has other ideas. Her amusement is quite apparent, and I'm painfully aware that this is due to her mead consumption.

"I'll just pop inside shall I?" she asks biting the end off as I scowl at her. _Why is she leaving you behind? You don't really want to speak to Malfoy again do you?_ She smiles sweetly in Malfoy's direction before waltzing past me, slamming the door of the shop shut and obviously peering out the window at us. I actually laugh at how completely obnoxious she's being. This is the last time I drink five winter meads with Alice Longbottom while conversing on a rather tender topic.

"Has Longbottom has a few?" asks a rather startled looking Malfoy watching Alice pretend to take an interest in the shelf of boxed chocolates in the window display. The rather pleasant tone in his voice doesn't go unnoticed. It seems rather out of place after our last conversation. I just look at him. I would scold myself later but right now I'm unable to stop myself drinking him in. With his windswept hair and his own flushed cheeks I'm reminded rather fondly of his lips the same colour and swollen from kissing me. When he finally, looks away from Alice at me I realise I completely ignored his question in place of leering at him in a whoozy fashion.

"I didn't see you in the Three Broomsticks." It's only a statement, but it breaks the spell his glorious appearance has on me and brings me back to my senses.

"A correct observation." I try, glancing down the street for something to draw my attention away from him. Unfortunately for some reason he's watching me. This all feels awfully familiar so I take a step back from him.

"Are you alright?" I don't expect this at all. It throws me off kilter a little almost tripping over my robes as I turn back round to face him. His face is in shadow beneath the shop sign, his eyes the only feature catching the light. _Why should he suddenly care?_ I realise with some distain that he is also swaying a little. _So he's only got the guts to talk to you again since he's had a few butter beers himself eh, Weasley?_

"I'm sure you can piece together and answer to that yourself Malfoy." I draw out his name unnecessarily as if to enforce the use of it. It worked. He drops his gaze to my shoes again and speaks to them instead, his brow furrowed.

"I had a few myself with Zabini earlier and … someone was looking for you." I look at him incredulously. Where is this coming from? This awkward small talk pushed on by his own beer consumption, but otherwise his new found indifference towards me suddenly forgetten. _Nope, that's not how this works Mister._ I feel the flare of anger lick my belly and I fail to keep acidic words forming on my tongue.

"Why are you talking to me? From what I recall from Potions, you were rather decisive upon where our relationship was. Mere acquaintances. Such relationships don't have such small-talk." This touches a nerve and he looks up at me sharply, though his jaw is set his eyes look anxious.

"Weasley-"

"Malfoy. You said it yourself. Or not in so many words that this thing isn't worth it. I was therefore under the impression to make matters easier we would go on as if we'd not begun patrolling with one another in the first place. Like ships passing in the night or some rubbish like that. Not chatting about the pleasantries of the day as if we didn't swim in the prefect's bathroom together or snog outside the kitchens."

I'm not sure where this word vomit is coming from but now it's started I can't seem to stop it. Who am I kidding. I only would have needed a single mead as a catalyst for this rant that's been brewing for days under the surface.

"For me Malfoy, those sorts of things aren't a regular occurrence. So when I've got a taste it can be rather hard to let go." I _know_ I'll regret using that turn of phrase when I sober up on the walk home later. I can see him mentally forcing himself not to grin at that compliment. I'd slap it right off his face if he did right now, the arrogant sod. See, that anger doesn't water down very easily. When you've inherited such fiery traits from both parents you almost have to be physically doused in water to cool off.

"Weasley," he begins, finding his voice, "your cousin sort of assessed the situation did he not? Made it quite clear I wasn't welcome within a broom's length of you." He tries to keep the scorn from his voice but fails miserably, slurring the last few words. This doesn't make him appear cute right now. He threw in the (rather expensive no doubt) Malfoy towel when he dismissed me during our lesson this week. I've already said I don't beg. I'm just so overwhelmingly frustrated that a bloke that I thought had an interest in me would just throw it away over what merely boils down to childish gossip.

"James Potter is a pig."

"Well we definitely agree on that Weasley." He states, bitterly.

"Clearly you listened to him though," I scoff, "so much for the things you said, unless that was made up?-"

"I assure you it wasn't." His tone is suddenly level and firm. My chest tightens and I try to ignore it.

"Well then, why the hell did you listen to anything James has to say? He talks utter shit most of the time. Besides, he doesn't speak for me, whose opinion should realistically matter most along with yours in all this." I realise I'm talking about this as if it's not been put to rest. Like the lid hasn't been closed. He doesn't correct me.

"If you meant anything you said, then surely you giving up was a rather poor move on your part? I can't say I've had many partners in such crimes but I genuinely thought we'd hit it off. Much to my surprise I'll admit, and clearly much to everyone else in the damn castle." I take a shuddering breath of cold air, it tears at my lungs. "From what I learn't about you the past few weeks, I never would have pegged you as spineless, Malfoy." His eyes widen with shock at this severe judgement. He has the good grace to at least look discomfited.

"I didn't say I believed Potter, but Weasley, knowing half the damn school might follow on from his prejudice and derision is a rather formidable thought. For any bloke. Least of all the son of a former Death Eater."

" _I_ never said such a thing. Something I have repeated half a dozen times by now."

"But he's got people thinking it." His eyes were dark again, a raging storm behind tired lashes.

"I already told you I didn't care about that." The fight almost leaving me in place of sympathy for the guy stood in front of me. He is right, he didn't ask for this. I know I'm fighting a losing battle. "Maybe just pretend it didn't happen at all then Malfoy. If you have any respect for me, it would make it a whole lot easier that way." He gazes at me thoughtfully. I really didn't anticipate this conversation _again_ with him. Especially not with Alice still watching hesitantly through the window. His eyes roam my face momentarily, stopping at my lips for a moment which I bite on instinct. He makes a tentative step towards me at this point but I put my hand up to stop him.

"No Malfoy. I'm not having my heart strings tangled with anymore. And I can't do _this_ right now." I move to open the door of Honeyduke's. "I'll see you in potions."

With that I close the door behind me leaving him looking even more disgruntled and downcast. I'm greeted by a severe looking Alice. She takes one look at my face and crams a box of fudge in my hands.

"He didn't bloody deserve you anyway."

* * *

 **Well this penultimate chapter hopefully got through a *hint* of Scorpius' feelings and a lot of Rose's. Also don't be pissed off at Scorpius. Imagine trying to make the whole Potter-Weasley clan like you when there are rumours flying around about you and their cousin. I don't imagine it's a nice thing for a teenage boy to deal with.  
** **I added a few things into this chapter that were pointed out as sort of loose ends to be tied up. Originally, I was really excited about this chapter but looking through it a few times I'm not so sure. Hopefully you guys would be kind and give me some feedback.**


	11. Chapter 11

That is most definitely the last time I let Alice convince me, or rather force my hand in drinking a generous volume of mead. Ok, that's a downright lie. She'd managed to cheer me up no end before we got to Honeyduke's so I now know that's a good way to go about lifting our spirits if required in the future. If I hadn't dragged Alice away from Honeyduke's I am fairly certain she would have spent all her inheritance at once on pepper imps. A sweet she became addicted to at an early age. She had been insisting that they would be a stock of constant warmth en route back up to the castle. In her merriment she'd eaten half a dozen too many and could only manage to cough out small amounts of black smoke as we arrived back up at the castle. I wouldn't have said she enjoyed the last stint of the trip, having resembled the appearance of a rather dazed looking, dirty blonde dragon hatchling.

She made every attempt to distract me from the additional conference between Malfoy and I, including even an attempt to juggle dumpings during dinner. It's surprising how quickly she sobered up when McGonagall strode over during our fits of giggles to inform us that sixth years usually behave and are indeed expected to behave with a tad more maturity.

Once I left her in the Entrance Hall with a friendly hug and a punch on the arm for good measure, I headed up to Gryffindor tower. Here, I am currently residing amongst a stack of Transfiguration notes regarding my copy of Advancement in Modern Human Transfiguration with growing distaste; it truly is an exceptionally dry read. Albus turned up about ten minutes ago to work on the same essay due in on Tuesday. He came in looking rather exhausted. Apparently there was some heated debate about the state of my loins. A conversation he'd overheard in Zonko's earlier today that had landed him in detention.

"But Al, you could have just ignored it."

"You know full well you would never tell Alice to just let it go," says Albus rather coolly.

"She'd never bloody listen that's why!" I exclaim, almost amused. "I'm not worth getting a detention over Albus."

"You're my cousin Rose. As far as I'm concerned, this whole thing has been blown way out of proportion. I'm certainly not going to sit there and listen to a bunch of seventh years pretty much verbally leer over you because of it."

"I didn't want you getting into trouble though." I sign turning to a page in my book that is thankfully covered in a pictorial scheme of wand movement rather than dense text. Albus tugs a tatty looking quill from his bag and begins chewing on the end.

"It's was Neville who caught me anyway. He was definitely more lenient than he would have been on anyone else. I like to think it was because it was some pretty impressive spell work he witnessed." He sits back in his chair, a small smile twitching at his lips his eyes shining smugly.

"Why? What _did_ you do?" I ask, easily distracted from my work this evening.

"I may or may not have successfully transfigured the bottom half of Toby Marten's face to resemble that of a horse." He avoided my eyes, as the satisfied smile now rather apparent on his face. I'm well aware that this is beyond anything I've yet managed in human transfiguration and just stare on incredulously. Albus continues in a rather blaze fashion in between feigning the biting of his nails, "The sheer accuracy of the transformation, is another factor as to why he didn't give me a more severe punishment. In my humble opinion of course."

I close my book in shock. "If that's the case then you can help me write this damn essay!" He rolls his eyes and fixes me with that bright green stare, alight with youth and merth.

"That's the best piece of wand work I've ever pulled off and you're worried about your essay?" he asks over his spectacles. I realise now, that my first gut reaction, the one that normally gets me into trouble, the one where I say things without thinking often makes me sound rather selfish a lot of the time.

"Sorry Al. That really is some impressive stuff. Honestly. I haven't managed anything that isn't just to do with hair; facial, head hair or otherwise." Albus sits back in his chair, nibbling his quill again.

"In all honesty, I hadn't even practised that before. I was just so infuriated with him I just did it. And it worked. Most of Zonko's got to see it before Neville rushed him back to the castle." I grin wickedly at him. This admission is classic Al. Tries to be the arrogant spell monger and kills it by being brutally honest. He had me fooled. That's some seriously difficult magic.

"Well thank you for defending my honour, as always." I admit, opening my book again to the previous page.

Thankfully we settle into work for a while. We pass general studious mumblings between us, but otherwise we're both quite focused compared to the usual state of affairs when Albus and I work in the same space. It's usually filled with obnoxiously mundane chatter to avoid working for as long as possible. It's been almost seventeen years (fourteen if you count how long it took for us to have a verbal conversation) of interactions that are often based around nonsense. Growing up home schooled you have to find the fun in anything to get out of learning arithmetic at a muggle high school level thanks to my mother.

A few students have come and gone over the last few hours and I swear I caught sight of a house elf putting another log on the fire, but it could have been a trick of the light. Some of the students have sent me curious or fleeting glances as they've strolled past, barely minding their own business. It is however, sincerely less explicit than it was at the start of the week.

Their mutterings promote a different distraction of work. They remind me of the weeks tumultuous events giving me reason to dwell on them. After the encounter with Malfoy this afternoon I feel like I've got this new lease of life. I won't lie to you, or myself. Yes, of course I'm disappointed. Malfoy is a hell of a catch. He's intelligent, well spoken, unlike what most people think he's rather charming rather than the presumed letchy persona. I'd personally misjudged his confidence for arrogance before getting to know him. And that smile will continue to melt girl's hearts; they just won't be mine. My gut twists at the memory of his eyes darkened in the dimly green lit corridor. I have to try and put those thoughts aside. Alice was spot on. As flings (as short lived as they can possibly be) go, it was certainly fun. I'm not waiting around for him. I'd really hoped he could put all this gossip bullshit aside as he also seemed to be rather enjoying my company as much as I was his.

Of course I have plenty of things to attempt to distract myself with. This Transfiguration essay needs doing for a start. Then it'll soon be Christmas and a few weeks for people to make their own stories to tell and spread come the spring term and New Year.

I turn my gaze to the window where flurries of snow drift by in the night air against the darkest black sky. White flecks collect in the metal weaving between the glass panes, visibly suggesting that winter is certainly here. The fact that I'm wearing a double jumper layer could also have told you that. Some third years are playing gobstones in front of the fire while a fifth year girl is plaiting her friend's hair following a sheet of parchment detailing instructions that she's pinned to the notice board. It's this surveying of the room that unfortunately leads me to lock eyes with Patricia.

It appears a shock to me as much as it does to her as her eyes widen and her face pales. I've not seen her since this debacle began, other than in class, and then she's made no attempt to acknowledge me. It has been difficult to consolidate my anger towards her as a person in this way, especially with almost every other mouth that's opened in my direction has been questioning something she started. Trying to hush the crowd to get to the instigator has proven fruitless. Most of my energy has been going into trying to set people straight after all, rather than aggravate the situation further. Perhaps it was a good thing our paths hadn't crossed.

I notice she's rather dressed up for a stroll to the Owlery at this time of night. She's wearing a pale blue cardigan, skirt, thick woollen tights topped off with her Gryffindor scarf. She starts fiddling uncomfortably with the tassels at the loose end of her scarf. I'm rather pleased that our silent exchange of looks is making her uncomfortable. She is, after all the one to blame for this. She could have kept her mouth shut. She drops my gaze, but instead of heading to the portrait hall she makes a move towards the table Albus and I are working at.

I must have gasped in shock when she began walking in our direction as something caused Albus to look up sharply at me and then follow my gaze over to her. He seemed to notice her gait appearing apprehensive as she approached, moving to look back at his work looking rather displeased. He glances over his glasses at me and I just shrug in response, completely confused as to what's going on.

Patricia stops about three feet in arm distance away from either of us. I could congratulate her on this being a rather sensible move, but instead I just stare at her blankly. She seems does seem genuinely uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot twisting her hands in front of her chest.

"What do you want?" Albus speaks up coldly, without looking at her. She blinks a few times at Albus' mop of hair and sets her face steady.

"I, uh-" she stutters, shattering the composed façade she's attempting to pull off. I'm still staring in disbelief that she's stood in front of me as if she's done something as innocent as lose my Charms notes. Although I'd still be rather pissed off at this I wouldn't also feel the urge to hex her into oblivion as I do now. That my friends is reserved for a personal slight.

The silence that stretches as she continues to fumble with her scarf is taut. I open my mouth and close it a few times; something that I'm quite sure makes me look rather dumb in all fairness. I feel it's a rather warranted response in the situation. Albus finally sets down his quill and moves to face her. She flinches backwards a foot or so before attempting to stand straight once again and not cower and run out of the portrait hole.

"Patricia, if this is how you apologise for being a colossal bitch then I'd probably give you a "T"." I hear Albus say although I'm still looking intently at her, curious as to if she'll say what clearly drove her in our direction in the first place. I turn to face him sharply; that sort of tone isn't usually one I'd associate with Albus. It's acidic and biting and Patricia, if at all possible looks even more shocked by this than her own prolonged silence.

"Yeah-" she begins, taking a deep breath and fixing Albus with a stare that I'm sure is intended to be unwavering but she's blinking far too rapidly, "I am apologising. I mean I want to apologise." She corrects herself looking between us now. Mine and Albus' eyes lock momentarily before we both look back to Patricia. Her eyes look a little less frantically between the two of us. I'm not sure what she wants from me, but if she's after a lecture as to all the reasons she should be apologising I'm happy to oblige. Finally I find my voice and utter what has actually been playing on my mind for the sometime.

"I'm not really the one you should be apologising to Patricia." I admit, against my better judgement. Yes she's essentially destroyed what could have been the start of something rather tangibly beautiful, but she's almost recreated the rift between Malfoy's and Weasley's, exaggerated through a simple lie. Something I certainly thought had died a death at the turn of the millennium. Albus gives me a perplexed look.

"I'm serious Patricia." She opens and closes her mouth. Seeing her do this confirms how freaking stupid it looks.

"I half expected all the gossip. I knew if it got out before it was anything serious and the extent of whatever it was between us wasn't yet mutually understood it would no doubt be blown out of proportion so fast we wouldn't be able to control it." Her eyes flashed with something I hope was regret. I'm horribly reminded of her smirking at me as I stood with sopping wet hair in front of the portrait hole having had the time of my life and her words making my happiness evapourate instantly. This thought riles me and I continue with enforced vigour.

"What did you think would happen? That people would just let it lie? Accept that the daughter of war heroes was fraternising with the son of their supposed enemy. Well _news flash_ Patrcia. We live in 21st century wizarding Britain, had there been context and an explanation it might have gone a lot more smoothly and you wouldn't have completely fucked up whatever _it_ was for the two of us."

"I didn't realise it was anything serious," uttered Patricia in a very small voice. I'm rather satisfied that she finally sounds guilty for what she's caused. Albus flashes me yet another questioning look but quickly returns his gaze back to her.

"That's between us don't you think?" I say my voice rising an octave. The third years by the fire have stopped playing gobstones in favour of watching this rather heated interaction. Her face creases uncomfortably. "And what about Scorpius?" her face flushes at the mention of his name and she better be damn sure it's embarrassment and not fond memories as I'm starting to get rather worked up.

"He's faced umpteen members of my intrusive family suggesting he's a disciple of his grandfather which is about as far removed from the truth as could be. You went out with the bloke for Godric's sake Patricia," it hurts me to admit that out loud, but I'm quite literally on a role and can't seem to focus on one thread. Too many thoughts and feelings are swirling around within my person it's becoming increasingly difficult to not just crumple into a heap on the floor, assume the foetal position and just remain like that until things subside. "You can't have gone out with him thinking he's some evil Slytherin plotting our demise or something equally as preposterous? He's now being painted as a man who mistreats women and is thoroughly untrustworthy. It's so unfair how he's been portrayed because of some little bit of gossip that's got out of hand. What the fuck did you even say to James anyway?" My voice cracks and Albus reaches over to squeeze my arm reassuringly. I take a breath trying to calm my anger and frustration.

"How can you have tainted a _really_ decent bloke's reputation unless you sewed a few lies into the mix."

"I didn't actually," she says defensively. I look at her incredulously and she's looking back like butter wouldn't melt in her damn mouth. Albus tightens his grip on my arm. He can probably see the Weasley rage flash in my eyes, which is a dangerous position to be in when I'm within reaching distance of my wand. My other hand twitches towards it on the table and Patricia's eyes instinctively grow, alarmed.

"Ok. Alright." She rings her hands again avoiding both our eyes. "I told him I'd found you behind the tapestry on the second floor. At it." The latter part of the sentence was unnecessary as her staring out of the snow covered window so she was looking anywhere but at us told me as much. _Yes, feel guilty. You've created unnecessary heartache for no good reason._

Albus released by arm and turned his whole body to face her. Clearly unable to control himself either. The biggest flaw of the Potter-Weasley clan is that either on the surface or when tempted out of our shell we all become a little too head strong.

"Why'd you do this Trish? It's just purely vindictive to make someone's personal life privy to the whole school? How would you like it?" he asked threateningly. My chest tightened, he was right but I felt like this was turning into something that wouldn't exactly ease the gossip. Two against one in a verbal brawl in the common room would only be fuel for the fire. The eyes of those thirds years were positively dancing in the firelight, observing the situation that's currently playing out in stunned silence.

"It's ok Albus," I said, attempting to pry his focus away from burning a hole between Patricia's eyes. Yes I'm incredibly frustrated, but Albus has already got himself into trouble. And I'd rather protect him than give any more attention to Patricia than necessary. Some part of my brain clearly has a logical hold, _thank god you're part Granger eh, Weasley._ Albus merely shook his head. "It's not just me in this Albus, remember," I turn to her my voice hushed, but I'm unable to shake it's harshness. She's apologised and I'm not exactly in the mood to be centre of Hogwarts gossip for a second longer. I'd rather just sever all ties with this awkward and frankly pathetic state I currently find myself in. "I think you'd be better just leaving. You look like you have somewhere to be." It's a simple statement and she quite clearly notices my implication.

She looks between us briefly before heading for the door, not without another apology, "I am sorry, Rose. I didn't think it would be this big of a deal." Albus made a movement to get up.

"You heard her Trish. Just leave," growled Albus half raised off his chair his hands splayed out on the books in front of him. She seemed to finally get the hint, scurrying through the portrait hole and out of sight. I turn to Albus in earnest.

"You shouldn't have got angry Al. That one just then, that was my fight." I sigh and turn the umpteenth page in my book that I've paid no attention to.

"I am angry. It must be some wild jealousy or something that made her tell James. Anyone in Gryffindor would know that he's make a big deal about it. Just because he's the eldest of us still at school doesn't mean he gets a say in all our personal lives. What utter rubbish."

"What reason would she have to be jealous? She's the one that cheated on Scorpius in the first place." At this point I feel a faint feeling of guilt and irony poke in my chest. After all without my mouth running away with me none of this would have happened.

"Well either way, I'm glad she left," he picks up his quill for a brief moment, appears to read a line of his notes then throws down his quill with a sense of finality. "Agh! I'm far too worked up to concentrate on this. I might just call it a night and start off early tomorrow. The last two sentences I've written don't even make sense." He looks up at me apologetically.

"I get it Al, believe me. I've found it difficult to concentrate for days now. I've just been forcing myself through it."

"Christ Rosie, I'm not trying to make this about me or anything. I honestly just can't quite believe any of this. If you'd told me people we're still so single minded and believe such drivel, I'd have said you belonged in old Voldy's era." We share a look before bursting out laughing. The sound cutting through the tension easily.

"Voldy's era?" I gasp, banging the table in applause.

"I don't know what made me say it. It just makes the situation even more farcical than it already is."

"Do you think any of the Death Eaters were allowed to call him Voldy?" I ask jokingly as Albus starts to pack up his belongings.

"I doubt it. Can you imagine? He's have Avada-ed them into next week!" I chuckle, riffling through my copious stack of notes to find the reference I'd been looking for before Patricia turned up and completely redirected my distraction into unwanted territory.

"When's your detention by the way?"

"Tuesday evening with Neville in Greenhouse three. He mentioned something about rearranging the flora."

"It doesn't sound too terrible. I kind of wouldn't mind an excuse for an excursion away from places of heavy foot traffic. Like you know, the library, the common room, the corridors." I say, trying to make light of it. Albus tries to hide his pitying look but fails.

"All joking aside. I defended you because you're my cousin and I'd do that for any member of my family." He slings his book bag over his shoulder, almost decapitating a passing second year. "I don't regret getting that detention. Hopefully it'll set everyone straight that has been spreading nasty and distasteful rumours about you _and_ Malfoy. And," he rolls up his sleeves subconsciously as if readying himself for my rebuttal, "I could tell when you spoke to me about this last week that you liked him. You didn't have to tell me explicitly. I know you. You'll play something down because you're afraid if you get excited something might get ruined. And in this case it kind of did, but it wasn't your doing at all. I said it already but it's his loss, Rose. And I really want you to come out of this knowing that." My heart swells and any argument I had dies on my lips. Again Albus shows me again why he's my uttermost favourite cousin and one of my best friends. Ever the honest, level headed one. He can read me like a book.

"I love you Al. You can tell everyone you're my favourite cousin. I really couldn't give a toss." I manage, smiling widely at him graciously.

"Don't mention it. I'll probably see you in the library tomorrow; I'll be working in the Transfiguration section."

"Thanks. Sleep well Albus." I say to his retreating back. He lifts a hand in fair well as usual, leaving me alone at the table and almost entirely alone in the common room.

I somehow manage to write one whole sheet of parchment before calling it quits for tonight. I'm very aware that most of what I've written I'll no doubt have to rewrite before I'm happy with it but it's a start. And most of the conceptual ideas I've discussed I'm content with. It must be nearing midnight by now as there is only me and a seventh year couple residing in the common room. Their giggles and murmurings may also be reason for me wanted to head up to the peaceful sanctuary of my dorm. I pack up my things slowly, yawning loudly as I do so. I tie my hair up as best I can but feel some loose strands fall back down to my collar. As I slowly ascend the stairs, arms full of books and notes, the weight of the day ebbs away slightly. If it hadn't been from the support of both Alice and Albus I'd probably have locked myself away a long time ago. Alice is probably right; I should get her something to show just how much I appreciate them for Christmas. I might have to ask my mum to send me a copy of the _Wanderlust: For the Adventurous Wizards and Witches_ catalogue so I can make sure I can find and order something before the end of term. I've said it before and I'll say it again they really are superb friends. _When did you turn so soft Weasley?_

I finally manage to put my books away and organise my books for the following day spent in the library; I know, what a thrilling life I now lead without promising trysts or attempts at flying. On that note I might speak to Al about that tomorrow. I change into some tartan pajama bottoms, with a small vest and the usual Weasley jumper. I really know I shouldn't. I should just switch off or practice some simple spell work but no. I pick up that damn _Advancement in Human Transfiguration_ text and flick through to the chapter I was reading most recently, because apparently I just don't have any desire to be happy. I tap the lamp on my bedside with my wand and extinguish the large overhead one, settling into bed under the warm glow.

I've read about two lines in this textbook and took in about two whole words and suddenly, BANG. There's this huge bang against the outer wall of the turret causing me to jump in shock and the textbook falls to the floor. The window frame is still quivering and I'm surprised the glass hasn't shattered. Perhaps Merlin is looking out for me. I'm almost certain even he; the great and powerful wizard himself would argue that no one should be reading a book written by Cornelius Modare as bedtime reading. That noise must have woken up the entirety of Gryffindor tower. I sit up straight for a moment, but I can only hear the sounds of the howling wind from outside.

Showing my true Gryffindor colours, I grab my wand from my bedside and toss the duvet off me before padding across the carpeted floor to the window. I can barely see anything through the white blur swirling amongst the darkness. My heartbeat increases about tenfold when I see a black figure that appears to be astride a broomstick flying against the wind to stay level with the window. All at once I feel pained curiosity at what the hell someone thinks they're doing on a broomstick outside in this weather, fear for them being battered off their broom and plummeting to their death, amongst confusion which could amount to me awarding a detention every night for the rest of the year because attempting a stunt so mind-blowingly dangerous and risky, even Harry Potter himself wouldn't have gone out of his way to do it.

The usual "think first, ask questions later" approach I've built over seventeen years of hard graft forces my arm to the window latch opening it inward helped by the force of the driving wind. I take a deep lungful of the freezing cold air before yelling out into the night, "WHAT THE _HELL_ ARE YOU DOING?"

I can't even tell if they've heard me, if it is indeed a "they" and I've not gone completely batshit insane. I squint focusing the figures edges that're coming more into focus of the light spilling out of the open window. It's now I realise a little too late that they're hurtling towards said opening at an alarming rate. I duck beneath the ledge as the figure hurtles through the window and crashes into the drapes around the bed next to mine, ripping down the hangings and becoming completely entangled in them.

I instinctively point my wand at the struggling mess of ruby drapes, heart in my throat I hear myself breathe out, "what the _hell?"_ If I didn't have an extremely strong grasp on my wand I probably would have dropped it when I heard a muffled yell that did sound distinctly human. "Yeguh caughd heeeghp!" I'm quite aware that my eyes must be bulging out of my skull right about now, and my hair is whipping around my face as the wind continues to rush through the open window scattering hundreds of snowflakes across the room. I blink a few times still merely watching the struggling figure before flicking my wand unfurling the drapes while pointing it in the general direction behind me I hear the window click on it's latch.

The drapes fall to the floor. I think my heart has literally stopped. Standing before me is a tall wizard specimen with windswept blond hair encrusted with snow, eyes wide and his almost-blue lips stretched across his face in the widest grin I've ever seen him wear. _Scorpius Malfoy_ just flew in my bedroom window. I repeat; Scorpius _Hyperion_ Malfoy just flew in through my bedroom window in the height of winter. I notice at this point the broomstick he flew in on is in fact hovering of it's own accord by my dressing table. This time I think it's actually happened, I've completely lost the ability of speech.

"Hey Weasley!" He says positively beaming at me, his lips regaining some of their usual colour. He doesn't seem aware that what he's just done is not as mundane as pouring yourself a glass of pumpkin juice with breakfast, but is in fact bizarre and absolutely ridiculous.

"You just…flew in…on a broomstick…through my window." I manage to choke out, his smile never wavering.

"Yes well, I was told once a while back that us blokes can't get up the stairs to your dormitory." He looks around, appearing to be taking in the room before continuing, "I have to admit it's rather cosy up here compared to the dungeon dormitories, you have to cast an atmospheric charm every week or so to stop everything getting damp." To reiterate, I am still completely perplexed by Malfoy's apparition into my bedroom on a Saturday night.

"Why?" I ask, my face scrunching up in confusion (and most probably becoming extremely unattractive in the process). He takes a confident stride towards me while I take a step back hitting the back of my legs on the side of my bed forcing me to sit down.

"I had to see you." Against my mind's better judgement my heart swells, regaining the quickened tempo it usually possesses when in the presence of Scorpius Malfoy. It must be this surprise appearance that's cutting through what should be a defensive and frustrated exterior.

"Why?" I manage to bite out, his smile faltering for the first time. "You could have killed yourself flying in this weather!"

"I wanted to apologise Weasley. I came up here to say sorry and that I've been a supremely idiotic idiot." I struggle to supress a chuckle and it comes out as more of a scoff instead.

"Seriously? "Idiotic idiot"? Did someone hit you with half a dozen cheering charms or something?"

"No." He shakes his head, sending droplets of melted snow across the carpet, some landing on my socks.

"What then? I know you're a good flyer but in this weather I have literally no idea how you didn't die trying to attempt that stunt." I gesture towards the closed window before standing up from my bed and taking a step closer to him, wand raised. He eyes it suspiciously for a moment before the smile transforms into a sort of jaunty, toothy smirk.

"Felix." He states, eyes twinkling merrily in the light of my lamp. And the whole room suddenly feels like it's crumbling down around my ears.

"What?" I splutter (again, all thoughts of composure have been long forgotten).

"Felix Felicis. I'm pretty sure you saw me grab some when it was just sat on our bench during potions." His smile looks a little more smug than before, prompting me to become a little bit defensive.

"I'm finding it hard to believe you as I've seen you grin like this without requiring a potion as an additive."

"Yes. But I've never flown in through a window looking this jovial in the snow. I've never flown through a window at Hogwarts as a matter of fact, Weasley. And somehow I wasn't caught." He adds. I'm not entirely sure how I should feel right now. On the one hand Malfoy rather recently disbanded any chance of our romantic relationship progressing for fear or embarrassment from my family, which I'll tell you hurt quite a considerable amount. On the other hand he has just apparently taken Felix Felicis as an aid to make it up to my room to speak to me. I hope you can understand that this doesn't exactly answer any of my burning questions but just confuses me further. I narrow my eyes, unable to hide the twitch of my lips towards a smirk of my own. The reality of the situation making me a little giddy and light headed.

"How do you feel then?" _Oh for the sake of Merlin's left nipple Weasley, THAT IS WHAT YOU'VE JUST ASKED HIM?_

His eyes find the quirk of my lips and he hesitates a second before taking another step towards me.

"I feel confident. Like I need to grasp each and every potential opportunity. Also slight elation, but that might just be part due to the flying stunt I just managed." I'm all out grinning now.

"You really are an idiot." I mutter before I can stop myself.

"How so, Weasley?" he questions lifting an eyebrow which disappears beneath his hair.

"You could have just dragged my into a broom cupboard to apologise and instead you wasted a little Felix to fly up to my dormitory without dying?"

"The compulsion for a grand gesture sort of took over, I'll admit. You really seemed convinced I was a bit of a spineless bastard earlier. And once the idea struck me it seemed so good and infallible to waste. So I just did it."

"Bit impulsive and Gryffindor of you, don't you think?" I ask incredulously, completely baffled that he'd waste such a valuable potion to have a few quick words with me.

"Clearly you were a bad influence Weasley." I grins. That toothy, oh so gorgeously toothy, lopsided grin. That makes my heart begin to melt and my pathetic self can't help but continue to grin stupidly back.

"And what would have happened if I'd hexed you into next week?"

"Well, the sheer shock on your face clearly distracted you from that if it was indeed your initial intention. I thought your eyes were going to fall out of your head." He laughs heartily and I reach out and playfully swat him on the arm. The contact sends a shock through me and I jerk my arm away suddenly aware of how close we're standing. Aware that right now most of my anger towards Scorpius Malfoy has been misplaced to make room for this warm almost foggy feeling. I bite my lip and predictably his eyes follow this action also. Suddenly my head is swimming with another thousand questions that need answering battling at the tip of my tongue. But one of them wins outright.

"But why Malfoy?" The question hangs in the air between us, delicate and foreboding all at once. I know exactly what I'd love to hear right now. It would smash right through the now rather thin shield of frustration between me and the man standing right before me.

He breaths in deeply, fixing his face with a serene looking smile, "Because if I'd meant what I said about the girls hear not holding a thousand candles to you, then I wouldn't have dismissed it all when we hit a bump in the road."

"A rather large, obnoxious bump," I add, unable to hold the words in.

"Exactly. So I'd be a complete jester to throw the towel in wouldn't I? You are really amazing Rose. I just wanted to know if you'd consider giving me another chance?" He shrugs, looking as nonchalant as ever. And all I want to do is jump up and down on my bed with complete uncontrolled joy because he actually did fly in through my window to ask if we could start this up again. I think my heart might have exploded.

"You do realise it'll be painfully obvious to the whole school if we start something up again?"

"Well I also realised earlier that I shouldn't give a shit what anyone else thinks."

"I don't remember it saying anywhere in the textbook about Felix making you more charming or anything." I flush as the words escape me, I can't hold them back, I feel as if I might float away on a cloud right about now. I pinch my arm hard to check this isn't a dream.

"Nah, that's just all me Weasley." I roll my eyes while allowing an elated smile to appear on my face mirroring my own.

"Is that a yes Weasley?" He asks, almost bouncing towards me eagerly, all Slytherin illusion shattered as his feet land about a foot in distance from my own.

"I suppose. I think you've earnt it Malfoy." He positively beams like an idiot down at me, lifting his arm up to tug my hair out of it's messy bun letting it all fall onto my shoulders and tugging it gently at the bass of my neck. He brings his face about an inch from mine, the smile never leaving his face before whispering, "you really are an incredible specimen of witch, Weasley."

And before I know it we're fiercely kissing as if making up for that week of lost time and I barely register his hair is still damp as I run my fingers through it, distracted by his tongue doing all those wonderful things I remember. I feel like we could quite literally drown in each other, I pull his sopping jumper off and drag him onto the bed with me as he unceremoniously kicks off his shoes colliding with his broomstick and them both clattering loudly to the floor in a heap. At some point I've also heard my wand drop to the floor, but my main focus is on Scorpius Malfoy's hands stroking down the side of my body, his nails digging into my hips as I involuntarily groan into his mouth. I feel the damn smirk against my own lips, blistering at the pace in which his kisses fall. Somehow a question pops into my head through all this and I pull away panting, opening my eyes. His remain closed while the smirk grows slightly if at all possible.

"Did you consider levitating yourself up the staircase instead of flying in through my seventh floor window?" His eyes fly open and he looks a little affronted.

"No. I can honestly say that thought didn't occur to me at all. Why?"

"No reason." I mutter before capturing his lips and entangling our legs pulling us flush against one another.

Usually, the scrapes I find myself in are much more mundane. So to say that in the past few weeks I accidentally broke up a relationship with an unintentional confession of infidelity. I made a friend in a Malfoy. We brewed a successful batch of Liquid Luck. I somehow found myself attracted to and consequently snogging said handsomely toothy Malfoy. Some drama ensued in the middle. To which Scorpius Malfoy, at least he's the only Malfoy I've ever met, used said Liquid Luck to batter the elements to sort of, I guess; win me back. I'd say it appears my luck might finally be changing for the better.

* * *

 **Well there you have it. The final chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!  
** **I'll confess I think this chapter was the most difficult to write. Without a beta to ask for advice it's been a struggle to finish this story off in a way that I was happy with. Hence the unusually long update time for me! But overall this is where I always wanted the story to end so I'm glad to have finally tied all those plot bunnies together that were just screaming to get out! I'm officially super busy with life now so whenever I get the chance I'll start writing my other story. Again that's pretty much planned out it's just the extra details of the journey I need to type out.**

 **Thank you all so much for actually reading this! I didn't imagine it would ever get this many views OR reviews. So yeah, to every single one of you that's took the time to actually read _my_ writing, you're all wonderful. Please do feel free to let me know what you think of the final installment. I really do hope it doesn't feel too rushed. After all some of my chapters take place within the same day so it seems realistic to me!  
In the meantime, take care fellow Potterheads.  
*Mischief managed***


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